


He Left Me Breathless

by Sebaek_is_my_turnon



Category: EXO (Band), NCT (Band)
Genre: M/M, Romance
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-03-24
Updated: 2019-01-17
Packaged: 2019-04-07 13:37:19
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 11
Words: 59,191
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14082096
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sebaek_is_my_turnon/pseuds/Sebaek_is_my_turnon
Summary: Byun Baekhyun is a talented student in Oh Academy of Arts.Oh Sehun is the rich business man with a volatile temper and a reputation that walks into the room before him.On a drunken night Baekhyun broke Sehun's most precious keepsake from someone he treasures dearly. Furious at the loss Sehun orders Baekhyun to follow his every little command until his debt is paid. Well that's just a nice way of saying Mr. Byun needs to learn how to be a slave for however long his master wills.How does Sehun deal with this messy Baekhyun who single handedly ruined his invaluable memory and who forces him to remind himself to hate him?





	1. Chapter 1

 Mistake

[](https://www.flickr.com/photos/140903028@N07/27134448648/in/dateposted-public/)

[](https://www.flickr.com/photos/140903028@N07/40112046045/in/dateposted-public/)

Fucked. 

To the many pairs of inquisitive eyes in this classroom it was a simple six letters word. But to Byun Baekhyun it had the power to explain the overwhelming sweat soaking his hair, the fierce heart burns and why his nerves resembled the strings of a worn out guitar.

What had he done to offend the gods so viciously?

What grave sin had he committed to have achieved such rotten fate?

Because if there were ever a list for the most disastrous coincidences in the history of human beings, this exact moment would be within the top ten easily. How had he gotten here? Ah, that’s right…

**Few Hours Earlier**

The distant evening sun grazes the awning windows in the cavernous living hall, throwing vaguely distorted and geometrical shadows. A superficial appraisal of the house reveals its emptiness and the undisturbed cushions on the couch add weight to my lingering confusion.

Where was everyone?

This was truly strange for a group of people who transformed into obvious lazybones having completed their so called "strict" 8 hour schedule. Which according to me was, complete bullshit because I had caught them casting Boys Over Flowers memes on the projector more often than not.

_Work smarter not harder_ was Byun senior's most cherished quote and an advice that he outrageously imparted to every Tom, Dick and Harry. Hence, making the existence of an eager beaver such as I, a miracle despite their fooling around and couldn't-care-less attitude.

"Mom...Mom...Mom" I impatiently wheeze, my vocal chords absolutely ragged from humming melodies and shredding notes, since, well practically the ass crack of dawn.

"CONNNN-GRATU-LATION-SSS" explodes the off key version of the song and I bolt upwards, dangerously close to the sharp overhanging sword. My family stands, holding a trophy shaped cake littered in candles while giddily absorbing the reaction their surprise had caused.

"You guys didn't have to" I protest and grin unable to contain the creeping satisfaction. "I think we’re going to need a new cupboard at this rate, son" my father observes and his warm eyes crinkle about the edges stretching into my favorite smile.

"24 Gold’s and counting" my brother beams flaunting the shiny, polished plaque.

"My son is doing so well that it makes mom want to give him the world" my mother coos engulfing me in her comforting embrace. It was the reminder and acknowledgement that I yearned for everyday, especially during the bad breaks.

"Come to the kitchen" Chanyeol yells and I basically run heeding his abrupt summons. This was our established tradition. Every competition that I won earned a special meal from Chanyeol and unconditional service of all kinds.

"What did I tell you?" Jongdae smirks rubbing the medal in Chanyeol's frustrated face. My best friend’s support system was slightly different than the normal, they bet on my chances of winning and Chanyeol almost always lost because of his unwavering yet misguided optimism for victory.

"Can you please give me a break once in a while? My hands are coated in dry skin" he complains placing a huge bowl on the place mat. This was my extended family, minus a missing person and since we barely left each other's house we fully qualified as such.

"Winning is a habit" I add arrogantly and receive a playful spank from Minseok hyung.

"Humility is every winner's first trait" he points, criticizing. Hyung was the rock that anchored me and the shelter, when the storms raged. We had been through the thick and the thin together. His fierce loyalty and overprotectiveness was the reason I depended on him wholly. Though we were not related by blood it was obvious we were related by heart.

It may be extremely selfish to think so but I am endlessly grateful for the woman who had abandoned the wailing child. And I was even more thankful that my parents had made the amazing decision to raise the barely clothed baby as if he was their very own.

"Where is Kyungsoo?" I ask leaning against the counter.

"He has a rehearsal. He should be here in a few minutes." Jongdae's usual loud behavior is subdued and it spikes my curiosity. It happened whenever Minseok hyung was close and I couldn't really understand it. He was not someone who piped down on anyone's account but where Minseok hyung was concerned he was quiet as a mouse and hyung who was usually very composed seemed flustered. I sensed where this is heading but still make a mental note to confirm it with Jongdae later. Neither he nor hyung would deny me an explanation but I didn't want to start anything unnecessarily awkward.

"Is he getting that?” I ask jumping excitedly.

"Yes, two large strawberry puddings and cherry pies for us" Chanyeol recites the message I had sent.

Chanyeol and I were currently studying in our second year at Oh Academy of Arts, only the most prestigious college in South Korea for the aspiring artists. It was an exhilarating and grueling experience, something we had worked our asses off for. The Academy produced nearly all the leading idols in the industry. If they were famous and had landed a spot in one of the top entertainment companies right off the bat, you knew they had graduated from here.

It was no small task to complete the comprehensive and intensive three year course. There was a practical assessment for your skills at the end of every week and anyone who did not meet the instructors standards were expelled mercilessly. Every aspect of the university embodied its motto "In excellence and perseverance we believe".

We shared the same majors except, where Chanyeol opted for musical instruments I had chosen dancing. Simply put it was virtually _impossible_ and a _privilege_ to be part of the institution.

Two years under the tutor’s guidance had fine-tuned my abilities to such an extent that the Dean now recommended me for every singing competition and I had yet to disappoint. Chanyeol was a literal prodigy in the making he could play 7 different instruments perfectly, rap and act. Not to mention the numerous remarkable Agencies that had already scouted him.

"I'm going to have to rob a bank to feed you" Kyungsoo announces entering the kitchen.

"I'll try not to make you file for bankruptcy" I say sheepishly.

"Why would he have to worry about that when he has Jongin?" Chanyeol teases, stupid as ever and Kyungsoo swiftly lands a stinging smack on his head to hide his embarrassment. He never learns, Kyungsoo was the kind of person who drew clear boundaries. He would gladly tolerate you until that edge but if you were to cross it or somehow mortify him in the process you'd surely catch the deadly mantis hands. Unfortunately Chanyeol didn’t understand the art of reading between the lines.

"This shouldn't be termed a celebration anymore. You're just making it an expensive family gathering every time you win" Kyungsoo quips, the perfect dose of reality that everyone needed. He never hesitated before revealing my flaws or how to fix them, making him my ideal vocal coach. Kyungsoo had graduated a year earlier because of his exceptional talent, which not only got him recognized by Julliard but also secured a full ride scholarship. He is currently training in Y.J. Entertainment Company, an elite among the A list.

He supervised all our competitions and assignments like a diligent invigilator. I couldn't possibly have picked someone better, because though we had opposite personalities we shared the same worries and same opinions on most matters. It was an unlikely but wonderful friendship. I was probably the single person Kyungsoo responded to because that boy's intolerance towards small talk deserved an award. Chanyeol would scream his name for hours and go unnoticed by him effortlessly. It’s not that he didn't enjoy talking to others or didn't care enough to react; he did not want to endure the trouble of exchanging unnecessary words. He truly was the saint of silence sometimes and the absolute opposite on other occasions.

"Are you free tonight?” I question, an idea developing. It had been ages since any of us had gone for drinks and silly dancing.

"I'm free" Chanyeol and Jongdae answer immediately.

"What about you hyung?"

"Sorry kiddo the hotel has to be opened early for a special event"

"Kyungja don't disappoint me" I warn ahead.

"I was planning to get some work done for the concert" he says referring to the upcoming performance.

"Yeah he was planning to get some work done on _Jongin_ " Chanyeol teases and this time I hit him.

"Hey stop that you're murdering my brain cells" he wails massaging the sore spot.

"If there's any left that is" Kyungsoo mocks cheerfully.

"Okay back to the topic" I remind them.

"Fine I'll come" he gives in finally.

"Great! Let's leave" I announce.

"How is it that the one guy who can't hold his liquor is more excited about going to the club than those who can?" Jongdae asks sarcastically.

"Tomorrow our vacation ends and I want to let loose before we begin. I have 6 subjects to pass this semester" I explain my dilemma.

"Yeah we're authoring a book called 101 ways to die quickly" Chanyeol adds faking joy.

"It is already a roaring success in the batch" I exaggerate.

"Okay shut up peasants I know what you're trying" Kyungsoo interrupts us wryly.

"It's alright Kyungsoo you already handled the food I'll reserve the bottle service" Minseok hyung offers, an angel in disguise.

"We're just poor college students and as the bread winners of this household you must look after your dongsaeng's" I plead.

"You are the only useless person in this group. Chanyeol got paid 900,000 for his previous job and Jongdae sold his software for 15 million" Kyungsoo scolds entirely unimpressed.

"Why are you comparing me to them? Chanyeol is bloody _Midas_ , anything he touches turns to gold and Jongdae is a _genius_ , even the face reader said so" I splutter, provoked

"Kyungsoo-ah go easy on him" Minseok hyung laughs.

"Minnie Hyung someone needs to tell this idiot to quit fooling around"

"Yah, Yah Pororo just you wait! When I become famous I'm going to drown you in so much money that you'll be Jongin’s sugar daddy" I retort fired up.

"Yeah right, that is if they even let your sorry ass debut" he deadpans.

"Kyungsoo is on a roll" Chanyeol whistles.

"I hate to ruin the fun but we need to make a move" Jongdae cuts in.

"Everything is set. You’re bound to get stuck in traffic at this rate" Minseok hyung suggests.

The club is already crawling with people and packed to the brim. The LED lights shine colorfully on the elevated dance floor and girls in latex dresses are suspended from the ceiling supported by a thin rope, it was a theme night I suppose. Chanyeol veers clear off all the women who try to engage him in a conversation and makes a beeline for the bar.

"Four vodka shots please" he orders sliding onto the chair.

"Cheers" we shout over the enthusiastic backdrop. The cool liquid burns in my throat and I reach for the salt to reduce the bite.

"More" I urge wanting to feel the buzz strongly and the cocktails flow until my body feels light. The dance floor beckons seductively and I drag Chen. We sway to music, not caring about how stupid it might seem and the shot of adrenaline is blissful.

Kyungsoo signals from the lounge and I close in for another swig of alcohol. A beautiful girl approaches our table, sights fixed on Chanyeol who is oblivious to the attention. I anticipate the pickup line that she no doubt googled but it never comes as he kisses the half-drunk Kyungsoo leaning against him. I spit the whiskey out and choke on air. The resulting expression is full of disgust and she strides away throwing snarky glances in our direction until, I flip the bird. This boy must be itching for a beating.

I stare at Kyungsoo wondering what Chanyeol's punishment would be but he just blinks blankly and relief floods me. Chanyeol had come very _close_ to death today. Kyungsoo did not fool around and his wrath was like none other. Though he never openly admitted it, he was well and truly committed to Kim Jongin, one of the most effortlessly sexy men I'd ever seen. They had met each other in their agency and it hadn't taken the sex god long to make our Kyungsoo blush like a teenager in his presence. It was obvious they had feelings for each other but Kyungsoo was the most principled guy on Earth, he did not mingle business with pleasure. I was currently in the process of finding a way to make him realize that he had to lose this battle.

"You're lucky he's bombed" I giggle at Chanyeol's wary appearance.

"My whole life flashed before me in a second" he whispers.

"You should just tell them you're not interested" I recommend a safe alternative.

"I did! That was her third attempt and you were too far away so I risked it" he mutters guiltily.

"Try it and I'll break your neck" I threaten him.

"Kyungsoo is rubbing off on you" he sighs.

"I'm glad. You can be too much of a pain in the ass sometimes"

"Where's Jongdae?" he asks and I suddenly remember that I had ditched him.

"Ah crap! I left My Chen Chen alone" I whine and launch a search mission for the soft baby.

I scan the place thoroughly but can't see anything past the towering and swarming bodies. Maybe he's in the loo. The dim lights in the VIP section blind me and I trip in the darkness until I bump into a hard surface. My senses are fogged immediately by the sensual fragrance floating everywhere. It is so exotic that I unconsciously lean in aching to be closer and two very cold hands push me away.

"Sorry" I mumble, still stunned.

"This is precisely why you were instructed to fax the contract to the office" a deep voice snaps disapprovingly and reverberates deep in my belly.

"I apologize, sir. But the client requested a personal meeting repeatedly" comes the panicked reply.

"Then you should have arranged the gathering in the office not in a filthy club where drunk imbeciles wobble around carelessly" the deep voice continues growing more frigid and I realize he is referring to my blunder.

"It was too dark to see" I offer, desperately wanting this man to believe that I had really been clumsy and not seeking an opportunity to harass his magnificently snug white-shirt-covered body.

"Which is why, you are supposed to use the band on your wrist. It functions as a flashlight for a reason" he enlightens in the superior attitude I was beginning to appreciate regardless of the meaning behind the words.

"I didn't know" I stammer resisting the urge to stroke his fabulously sharp jawline.

"Oh it’s alright, I don't normally expect an IQ higher than 20 from anyone I come across. You've safely maintained the perception" His tone is so humiliating that I blush in shame. This man was taking it too far. I had already apologized for my fault but he was flinging insults in spite of that. Why couldn't people just accept the nicety and move on? Now I was mad and the mixture of booze coursing through my blood was only intensifying the effect.

"There is no point to your rudeness" I grit.

"Just stating facts" he affirms insensitively.

"Are you always this big of an ass?”

"You were in my personal space sniffing me like a dog for minutes, completely disregarding any concept of manners” he chuckles and I quiver with barely contained anger.

"I was not, you delusional jerk" I yell.

“You are wasting precious time people would pay millions for. Please stop being a nuisance and step aside" he says dismissively and my temper flies off the wagon.

"The only nuisance in here is you" I exclaim and dump the contents of my bottle on him.

"What the-" he curses furiously and I stumble to the wall.

He clenches my elbow forcefully and the light finally illuminates his face. _Holy fuck_ . He was stunning. Anger had never looked so heavenly. Gasping at the pressure he's exerting I realize my mistake, as the beer drips down from his hair. I open my mouth to apologize again but the other man intervenes agitatedly offering towels. He releases me momentarily to accept it and I seize the chance to disappear into the unlit corridor. My heart was pounding and I couldn't get his beautifully beer soaked face out of my head. I was in so much trouble if he sent someone looking for me. Curse my sassy tongue.

"What happened?" Jongdae asks.

"Got lost" I huff.

"Idiot."

"Hey drink your own damn beer" he grumbles as I gulp the whole thing.

"I threw it" I respond bleakly.

"Where?" Kyungsoo questions, suddenly alert.

"On a person. An extremely handsome person." I sigh.

"You see why he doesn't get laid" Kyungsoo announces triumphantly to Chanyeol.

"He called me a moron for just slamming against him. It wasn't even my fault, it was so bloody dark" I complain nonstop.

"You see why he doesn't get laid" Jongdae repeats and I glare at them.

"I'm going to get smashed before that dude sends a sniper to kill me"

I don't know how many vodka bottles we finish until I am laughing as a guy twirls me about and the next moment I'm woken up by blinding sunlight. I swear soundly and cringe at the smell of my breath. The blanket won't budge and I cry, half way to throwing one of my legendary sleep deprived morning tantrums. A stray leg lands on my waist heavily and I hear Chanyeol's characteristic snore echoing loudly in my ears. I try to push back but his giant arms are wrapped too tightly. It was too fucking hot and it didn't help that Chanyeol loved cuddling.

"What time is it?" I grumble sleepily.

"I don't know" he groans rummaging for his phone.

"Where are Kyungsoo and Jongdae?" I ask and find them curled into balls like a pair of kittens on the other end. Where was the camera when you needed it?

"Baekhyun-ah what does it say here?" Chanyeol grumbles and unsteadily passes the phone.

"It's 10 ‘o’clock" I read and realization strikes like a bolt of lightning. The classes were scheduled from 10:30 a.m.

I jolt upwards and pull the still sleeping Chanyeol off the bed with me. His body is motionless and I have to jerk him awake continuously.

"What? What’s wrong?" he startles and I laugh at his foolishness instantly regretting it as my head throbbed painfully. I bite down the wave of nausea and wipe the tears. No time to puke.

"We have half an hour to get to college" I scream through the agony.

"Oh shit shit shit" he chants as the hangover hits him all at once.

I bet he wanted to crawl in to a hole but not as much as I wanted to die and never breathe again.

"What's your first hour?" he asks, panic sinking in.

"Dance" I shriek just remembering that I was going to be late for my very first class with a new teacher who I had no clue about. Way to go Baekhyun way to go. Keep up the good work, I'm sure you'll eventually get your degree.

I pull myself up and dash to the bathroom to finish the morning routine. Chanyeol rushes in soon after and hands me two Advil’s. I gulp it down gratefully and set about looking for my bag and training gear. The room is so messy that I barely find two skinny jeans, plain t shirts and hoodies, both belonging to Chanyeol whose clothes I loved stealing.

“My gosh, your punctuality is impressive” Minseok hyung greets smugly.

"Please call an ambulance" I whine and he gives two large cups of steaming coffee.

"You deserve it" he smirks and I accept it thankfully. Chanyeol runs down and grabs the cup while dragging me out the door, a hasty good morning and see you later flung at hyung. We break hundreds of laws as his black range rover takes us to college in record time. We're late by five minutes but considering the situation I draw it up to my good luck for not being later. I promise to meet him in our next class and take four flights of stairs like some mad rabbit. The studio door stands open and I enter formulating an excuse with a quick bow. Hopefully, the teacher wasn't strict enough to toss me out for this.

"You are late" is the first thing I hear. I straighten up to offer more apologies but freeze in shock.

Is this some sick joke?

My mouth is dry as the desert and I pray this is a dream. Otherwise this would be the last day I ever step foot in this college.

Just when I thought I had caught a break.

There before me stood the unbearably gorgeous man from the club yesterday with his perfectly thick eyebrows scrunched in irritation. His blissfully plump lips purse disapprovingly and I sense that he's struggling internally to control his rage.

"I'm sorry sir. I didn't mean to..." I begin but his frightening glare destroys the words. This was a _fiasco_. How the hell was I supposed to pass this class when I had already seriously offended the professor?

I bow again and silently exit the class. In the passage I run forwards and hear the door unlock with a loud _Baekhyun_. I don't pause knowing full well that if I did I would certainly be slaughtered in front of the whole class and left to hang as an example. My day was getting _better and better_.


	2. Dilemma

[](https://www.flickr.com/photos/140903028@N07/26269431267/in/dateposted-public/)

I hide inside the cafeteria for the next two hours nursing a cup of cold omija tea (five flavor berry tea). Going through the most intense internal struggle, I half blamed myself for the situation I was stuck in and half blamed the handsome stranger. No scratch that, it has officially been changed to teacher. _Fucking fantastic_!

Isn’t this the moment where a cameraman appears unexpectedly and announces on National TV that I was the latest victim of their prank who completely aced his role by being scared to death like they had predicted? I mean what are the chances that the one time in your whole life you decide to settle scores with a stranger for all the crap they spout and it turns out he is going to be your instructor for entire the semester. Which was, four _very lengthy_ months.

It wasn’t even close to funny seeing how dance, was counted as my major and I'd need to score no less than A- to raise my overall rank. If this had happened during the previous year I would have gladly accepted defeat and abandoned any idea of attending the course but it was impossible now. Not only was the Dean insistent on promoting those students in the A grade category but it was also crucial to enroll as a trainee in my ideal agency.

Easily maintaining A+ in all the other subjects wouldn’t matter if he decided to show me the exit or worse yet fail me in a flash. I would have to leave disgracefully and continue dad's business. Probably become a concierge in Minseok hyung's hotel. That should surely provide enough amusement to everyone for the rest of our long lives, no doubt. _Ah_ _remember how Baekhyun said he'd become famous and drown us in his money_? That was a good gag. I cringe, violently just imagining Kyungsoo's gloating face. I would never survive it. I have to find the ladder in this hole that kept getting dug deeper and deeper.

I could still switch classes because it was the beginning of the term and many slots wouldn't be filled this early. Pushing back the standard issue chair I rush towards the administrative building and pray for an empty slot. The red building of fate looms large and the elderly Mrs. Choi is busily managing the bundles of papers stacked on the desk. I assume my best goody two shoes expression and think of a ploy to string her along.

"Good morning Mrs. Choi. I am starting to find reasons to see you." I compliment straight away and she indulges delightedly. Yes, yes please fall for this. I must seem unbearably dazzling.

"Good morning Mr. Byun" she greets self-consciously.

"Aye Mrs. Choi I thought told you to call me Baekhyunnie. You’ll really hurt my feelings if you don’t" I engage her in idle chat displaying another grin. The lady literally fumbles for balance and I feel slightly guilty. The tricks I had to perform to save my ass.

"What can I do for you Mr. Baekhyun?" she enquires shyly and I fake a fainting motion. Exaggeration was definitely my forte rather than common sense.

"Nothing too, troubling. I was hoping you could allocate a seat for me in Kim Tae Woo Seonsaengnim’s batch from March onwards" I continue notching the charm level higher.

"Haven't you been assigned to Oh Sehun Seonsaengnim?" she demands scrutinizing the individual schedule for each student in the computer.

_Oh Sehun._

Dammit even his name made him sound luxuriously wonderful.

"That is correct but recently I enrolled for a 4 month extracurricular program that clashes with Oh Seonsaengnim's curriculum. If I could shift, it would be greatly helpful. I really don't want to fail" I say pouting sadly and she seems to believe the lie. Puppy Baek is a habitual offender who bends the laws to fulfill his commands.

"I wish there was an option to accommodate your request but all the seats are currently occupied. Unless you have signed consent from the Director stating otherwise I cannot replace your registration number for someone else's" she sympathizes smiling in the way your grandparents do when they have to deny you something because your parents said so. I thank her for the inconvenience despite my disappointment. Well beggars can’t be choosers or chosen.

Undeniable truth of the day – _I will flunk_.

I slam my head against the pillar outside the office expecting to give myself an injury severe enough to cause amnesia or a permanent concussion. Eventually I throw in the towel and head onto theory of music. Marching to the last bench I collapse into a heap of regret and self-accusation.

"Was the session that tiring?" Chanyeol asks surprised at my dramatic entry.

"I didn't attend" I answer in a numb tone.

"Is the hangover killing you?" he questions considerately.

"No my wild temper and hands are killing my career" I burst like an overblown balloon.

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"It means, my luck is so darn sensational that the guy who I soaked in beer last night in the club ended up being the newly appointed dance coach, fresh from Satan’s crew" I sigh and Chanyeol instantly grabs me up by the hoodie. I give him a stare showing how done I am.

"Seriously?!" he practically screams and I nod, frustration flooding me once more.

"Mr. Oh Sehun Seonsaengnim aka the extremely, tremendously gorgeous piece of art from the bar who hates my guts will be nitpicking my two left feet and all they can trash" I whisper no fight left.

"What did you just say?" Chanyeol probes lifting the hoodie again and I bite his wrist until he has to forcefully shut my mouth.

"Repeat" he urges.

"That I'm going to die? comes my muffled answer.

"No, before that idiot."

"That I won’t pass?" I wonder, trying to remember what I had spoken.

"No!" he snaps and I am puzzled.

"That Oh Seonsaengnim is conducting the lessons?"

His owlish eyes bulge wider, if that was possible and I don't appreciate it at all. Another awful omen might be in the process of unveiling.

"OH" he exhales in shock and it alarms me .

"What? What am I missing?!"

"Didn't the name strike you as familiar?" he tests and I need an actual minute to judge.

"No no no no no. It can't be that person. There are so many people with the same surname" I whisper, blood freezing in my veins.

"Is he Oh Sehun or Oh blah blah?" he murmurs, lowering his voice and I nod mutely.

"It's him isn't it? The Chairwoman's son?" I cry and Chanyeol gestures a double thumbs up in return.

"Dude have you been sleeping with bad luck? You couldn't find someone else to go mental on?" he whistles in disbelief.

"If I knew who he was I would have cut my arm" I wail incredibly close to tears. I had crushed my whole future using a single bottle of rotten wheat and yeast. This is a level of failure even I hadn't imagined for myself.

"You should get on your knees and beg ASAP" he suggests and I realize there is no other option. Maybe they'll let me breathe if I do.

" _How_?" I sob against his chest and he pats me reassuringly.

"Tell him that you didn't know who he was. Which is practically impossible because the guy is in the front page of the newspapers and journals daily" he says incredulously and I whack his chest.

"This is not helping. You know I don't read anything, much less the news" I frown.

"Kyungsoo is going to attack you with the fly swatter" he warns and I bite him for the third time.

"That is also not helping Yeol. Do you want to see me die?" I scream.

"Fine! My point was that you didn't mean to be an ill-mannered prick and it was an absolute misjudgment on your part. You're very sorry for your rash actions and that you'll reflect on it in the future" he replies calmly like he’s used to these circumstances.

"You think it'll work?" I ask desperately.

"It's a start" he says and it doesn't spark confidence, whatsoever.

"Leave it to me to pick a fight with the only son of the woman who owns my career" I groan.

"Not to mention the present CEO of Oh Enterprises and the man famously crowned as the 5 minute god" he adds to my misery. Of course he owned the biggest company in all of Asia that even Forbes acknowledged.

"Why is he called the 5 minute god?" I ask curiously.

"He contracted a billion dollar deal for his company within five minutes when he was 17 years old" he says matter of fact.

"How did he do that?" "He told the other CEO’s daughter that she was the most beautiful woman he had ever seen” Chanyeol states proudly.

“So? A lot of people do that” I retort.

“She was voted the ugliest Chaebol in the poll conducted by Empire Magazine" he reveals in awe.

Well you can't blame the girl. It had taken me all of five seconds to go week after smelling him. The poor thing had no chance but to become a puddle of goo like me.

“Why do you know him so well? Are you a fanboy? Do you have a private fansite? Are you stalking him regularly?” I fire one theory after another.

“Honestly your brain worries me” he declares unimpressed.

"How about I just mail a detailed apology letter written in my blood? That certainly says sorry like nothing else" I offer.

"It also says you need to be locked up in a psychiatric ward. Meet him after the class and do it as the rest of us do. The longer you drag this, the terrible the consequences" he retorts.

"Really? How much worse can it be?" I groan in disbelief.

"You could be expelled instead of failing one subject" he states seriously and I shudder at the thought. That was _horrific_.

"Okay I'll talk when he’s free" I say thoroughly exhausted and the lecturer walks in. The rest of the day is a blur while I plot the conversation and soon Chanyeol is dragging my limp body to his car.

"Baekhyun hyung" echoes from somewhere and I turn to see Taeyong our junior sprinting towards us.

He stumbles when he catches Chanyeol grinning wickedly and I struggle to hide the hysterical laughter. This kid was _hopeless_. His infatuation for Chanyeol was legendary and it has been going strong since forever. He was totally love-sick for him but Park Chanyeol was dumb as a brick to the fact.

I don't know why the kids in his class were so afraid of him. Granted he could be a real brat but anyone could see it was just an act, especially if they could see him around this giant. The scarlet shade of his face was in stark contrast against his purple hair. Straightening he moves carefully and attempts to conceal his embarrassment. Chanyeol is enjoying the spectacle and I elbow him hard but it is useless.

"Leave my baby alone" I warn, wrapping him in a hug and he covers himself completely.

"What happened?" I ask reminding, why he had searched for me in the first place.

"Yeah Oh Seonsaengnim wants to meet you in his cabin tomorrow. When you left without his permission he seemed really irritated. I have been looking for hyung everywhere" he murmurs into my neck. Taeyong is a child prodigy, he could dance and rap like it was nobody's business. The Dean allowed him to join AP modules because of his sheer talent hence making him a fellow companion.

"Taeyongie on a scale of one to ten how annoyed was he?" I inquire and stroke his chiseled jaw, my favorite part of his body. These ikemens bring out the secret cougars in you.

"9?" he answers, unsure.

"Thank you. Be a good cookie monster okay? Hyung is always watching you even if I'm not here" I say pressing a kiss to his cheek and he looks at me uncertainly.

"Is hyung going anywhere?"

"Hopefully heaven but with hyung’s track record I'll probably be dumped in hell" I respond confusing him more.

"Seriously you should become an actress. See you later Taeyong ah" Chanyeol says pushing me onto the passenger side and I wave goodbye to a flustered Taeyong.

My parents demand an explanation about my lifelessness and I blame it on the lack of sleep. I had one task in mind, preparing the best apology letter as a backup in case I lost my balls when I saw him.

Changing into comfy clothes I reboot the laptop and open Google typing Oh Sehun into the search box. Thousands of results pop up, some related to his company, some related to his personal life and some related to his _conquests_ for the lack of a better word.

I open the Wikipedia page and the first thing I notice is that he is two years younger than me and it restores my pathetic mood. He was 19 and already had the whole world on the edge of their seats wondering what he'd do next. Will I ever be that successful?

Mr. Oh senior had passed away in a mysterious car crash and there were dozens of links leading to articles. He had lived and studied in America all his life. He was such an exceptional student that the school promoted him three grades ahead and he had graduated from Cambridge with a business degree last year. He was an avid philanthropist who donated food and money to the less privileged. There were lists of achievements to his credit and I observed some of them included best dancer awards.

This guy was so phenomenal that every major university hunted him as a teacher or a student. Unfortunately for them his busy schedule permitted only an hour or two of availability. He gave impromptu lectures that everyone gathered for no matter where and when. Five minute god was truly his alias and the description matched Chanyeol’s story.

The image section could have been a model's portfolio for all it's worth and to my utter mortification I come across a practically nude picture of him where the essentials were barely covered by a pale silk sheet. Every renowned magazine had him plastered on their covers posing in clothes expensive enough to put any average man's yearly salary to shame.

I click the bubble for Oh Sehun's alleged love interests and the screen is crowded with excessively attractive women, being outshone by him in every photograph even though most of them were highly sought after models themselves.

How am I supposed to utter anything in front of this mammoth of a man? He was a living, breathing monument and everything seemed to pale in comparison. There is no way I can do this, I was chickening out and I couldn’t even imagine what I would do in front of him. On top of that he had specifically asked to see him tomorrow. I mean if the guy had enough money to burn why the hell was he teaching us?

_A rich man's greed or honest passion?_

Both were scary right now.

I write many drafts and keep throwing papers into the bin unsatisfied. I am doomed. I should probably take a semester off. Failing a subject would only mean I had to retake it, instead of trying and failing regardless, might as well completely ditch the complications and stay in the North Pole until it gets over. I keep thinking about this and don't know when I fall asleep. The blaring noise of the alarm startles me awake and I realize I haven't written a single legible word.

“Little Master went to bed without dinner last night. What's bothering you?" Minseok hyung asks returning from his morning jog.

"Remember I told you about the guy I threw beer on?" I grumble, massaging the sore muscles.

"Yeah, the rude and hot stranger" he says quickly.

"Rude and hot teacher" I drop, casually.

"What?" hyung shrieks incredulously and breaks into loud chuckles.

"Thanks. This is exactly the kind of moral support I need" I say wryly.

"You have to admit this is hilarious. You never lose your temper and when you rarely do, it knocks you out" he giggles.

"Hyung I am willingly going to the lion’s den and I have no idea how I'm going to fix this."

"Just apologize bunnie. You know how this goes, you make a mistake you own up to it" he advises always the sage.

"I know I should but I don't know how. Best part is he's the Chairwoman's son and the CEO of Oh Enterprises. I don't think I can get out of it with an apology" I say silencing hyung finally.

"Wow! That my dear is the tragedy of the century."

"I know. See you on the other side hyung."

All the contemplation had given me one solution, appealing to his merciful side.

I had dance in the last hour so it was an absolute torture just imagining how he would react. Chanyeol disturbed because of my agitated behavior ties my hands to the bench and forces me to sit still for an hour. I quiver like a ticking bomb and he abandons me as soon as the bell for the last period rings.

Standing outside the studio I deliberate for several minutes and decide it is impossible in front of the others. I wait near the entrance for two hours until the students slowly leave.

You can do it Baek you can do it.

The room is empty and I see him leaning against the table drinking water. All preparations flee my mind and I just stare at him dumbly. He has his back to the door so he doesn't see me right away. I use the chance to savor his broad and splendid shoulders.

The tracks he is wearing emphasizes the ample curve of his ass teasingly and his sweat soaked tank is attached to him like a second skin. His beautiful black hair sticks up in different directions and he shakes it heartily. His arms flex stressing the veins in them and I shake where I am.

He wasn't simply stunning; he was the epitome of male beauty. His Adam's apple bobs as the water slides down his throat gradually and I have never been more jealous. His waist moves to the music still playing and I watch him signing some documents. I am thunderstruck and utterly lost in appreciating that I don't become aware of him turning around.

His defined and serious eyebrows wrinkle in distaste and my insides tremble. If brows could kill I'd be dead a few million times. I mentally slap myself into reality and he regards me quietly, the contempt far too obvious. My memory suddenly recollects the women who appeared in the search results yesterday and I immediately feel inadequate.

"To what do I owe this pleasure Mr. Baekhyun?" he questions sarcastically and I freeze altogether. I am fighting a losing battle.

"Because you summoned me" I mutter lamely and he rolls his eyes. Lord save my sinful soul.

 


	3. Punishment

“And here I thought you finally grew a conscience Mr. Byun” he drags the sentence lazily.

"Mr. Oh Seonsaengnim I -" I start while nervously fidgeting with my fingers, about five feet away from him. I carefully shielded myself from any punches he may decide to throw after tackling the infamous talent of mine in aggravating people effortlessly.

"Seiza" he interrupts, his expression so bored that I believe he probably hasn’t said anything. He could have been reading a damn newspaper for all the emotion he displayed.

"What?" I inquired not having heard him properly.

"Seiza Mr. Byun" he repeats just as blankly and I wonder, completely dumfounded.

The phrase seems awfully familiar for some reason and I stress the cells in my brain not occupied in virtually stripping him to go through the extensive list of animated movies I had binge watched to decipher what it meant. Suddenly a scene from Naruto Shippuden flashes before me.

Was he…?

Did he…?

He wants me to sit kneeling on the floor? Well this was _unexpected_. I contemplate pretending to be ignorant to the term but the mood in the room conveys that I would only invite his fury hundred folds stronger.

Well, I suppose this was all ‘part’ of the process.

I quell my raging pride and follow his indifferent command, folding my knees and resting my entire weight upon them. If embarrassment had a brand ambassador I would undoubtedly qualify for the post, having easily made a fool of myself in the span of 48 hours in multiple scenarios.

I cannot look up at him or respond to his attitude. My humiliation rose to its peak.

"Do you know I hate gifts Mr. Byun?" he questions slowly and I am beyond dazed.

"No…" I eventually answer, realizing he's actually waiting for an opinion. Was this a test? Is the trap he is laying elaborate enough to trip me head on?

"Never quite understood their purpose or appreciated the idea. Do you perhaps consider it the same way Mr. Byun?” he demands analyzing the documents in the folder marked by the Oh Enterprises logo. What the hell should I say in return?

“I’m not s-su-sure” I stammer hurriedly as his presence scares my judgment. The room was boiling hot and it was surprising since there were three air conditioners functioning in lowest temperatures. _Please don’t let me faint. Please don’t let me faint_.

“The only person who I accept them from is my mother and those instances are between rare and almost never" he offers conversationally.

"She must give great gifts then" I retort and smack myself mentally. _Yes_ Baekhyun _yes_. Please keep _provoking_ him. That’s a _fantastic_ idea. He will definitely remain calm and deal with this situation patiently. What on Earth has possessed me? Not only was I being utterly embarrassing but impolite to top it all off.

"She does. Her taste is flawless. But the point is, how am I supposed to feel when the one time I go outside wearing the gift she so graciously selected, someone decides to bathe it in cheap, trashy alcohol? The seats in my Bentley are permanently ruined due to your stunt" he observes eyes glinting dangerously and it dawns on me that maybe I'd never leave in the shape I came in.

"Seonsaengnim I am extremely ashamed of what happened" I declare glaring at my thighs intensely and the guilt is brutally harsh for ruining his occasional, valuable gift. I had no clue and I certainly hadn’t considered anything besides my wounded ego back then.

"Mr. Byun I am a very busy man, unlike you my schedules are accounted and compensated for" he states sternly and it feels as though I am running on eggshells. He was obviously not cutting me any slack for the level of stupidity I had exposed.

"What I- mea-nt was" I stutter, throat dry and dehydrated.

"60 seconds Mr. Byun. It is what I am willing to spare for this impractical attempt" he announces, jaws locking in restrained anger and I draw a deep breath in to steady my nerves. Everything about him was frightening and I couldn't ignore that.It felt like being pushed down with an invisible hammer and the position was not helping. I couldn’t guess his reactions nor could I imagine this ending in the outcome I desired.

He had my entire future resting on his side of the court and I had to make a real effort. If I screwed this up, I would have no other opportunity to make it right. I had worked tirelessly to reach this far, there was no chance I was letting it go because I couldn't get over how attractive and powerful this man was.

"I'm truly sorry for losing my cool in the club. I was incredibly drunk and half sensible at best. If I had known who you were things would have been enormously different" I squeak rushing through the whole sentence before I got cold feet.

"I am not used to anyone treating me in that manner Mr. Byun especially when it was so unreasonable. From a student who was accepted into my institution I expected more self-restraint and discipline. What you did, that night was against every principle we preach and to be fair your expulsion certificate has already been signed and sealed" he remarks and my heart freezes for few painful moments. I go numb with fear as my worst nightmare came to fruition and a panic filled wheeze escapes me while I struggle to stand abruptly.

"Seonsaengnim please don't do this, it was an idiotic mistake! Please give me another chance and I will not disappoint you or this Academy" I plead desperation clear in my voice.

"Mr. Byun we need students who are constantly raising the standards not bringing them to dirt" he comments, displeased.

"I will do anything you tell me to" I beg on the verge of tears and he watches me expressionlessly.

“Frankly your actions were inexcusable. If I aimed to have gangsters and hooligans to walk these halls I would have opened it exclusively for them” he snaps.

“Please let me prove I am better than this. My intention was not to dishonor the reputation or the motto of this institution. It was not motivated by any malicious goal whatsoever. I really don’t behave that way normally. Please I can’t lose this. My whole life depends on this” I continue convincing him as fear forces my sentences close to sobbing. Minutes seem to turn into hours when he scrutinizes me and the tenseness in my body makes me stiff as a stone.

“I am not sure there is still a possibility for trust left here” he says unconvinced.

“Please reconsider it Seonsaengnim. I cannot express how much I need this” I plead pathetically.

"In my class I don't want to hear a single word from you, if you have a doubt, an emergency, not a single thing” he states coldly.

“Yes sir” I answer immediately.

“Every evaluation at the end of the week cannot go below A- and I expect 100% attendance. No excuses will be accepted or tolerated. You’re _sick_ , _dying_ , _dead_ I need you here” he adds seriously.

“These conditions are subject to change as and when I see fit. If you put even a toe out of the line I will make sure your career never sees the light of the day and trust me Mr. Byun there are a lot more people in this world who would obey me rather than employ you” he warns no trace of humor.

“I wouldn’t dare to sir” I say firmly. Was this called a shake down? Honestly, from where I stood I had literally been shook, stuck and dangled like an insignificant piece of fish bait.

“If you find these terms intolerable you may gladly show yourself out with your expulsion certificate. The exit is always open for you" he finishes smiling for the first time and a chill runs over me. He meant everything he had proposed and there wasn’t any space for escape or slacking off.

“Yes sir. I swear to abide by all that you’ve said without any complaints” I reply nevertheless.

“Excellent. Rafael you may bring those in” he instructs and suddenly a tall man wearing a black suit appears out of the blue. The surprise actually makes me flinch and I step back. He must be 6’3 at the least and no matter how I looked at him he didn’t seem Korean. The tan on his skin indicated, Spanish or Italian?

“Sir these are the documents you directed me to prepare” the man mentions not missing a beat.

“Please give them to Mr. Byun for checking” he utters coolly and the beanpole stretches a folder with typewritten papers towards me. His accompanying stare is tough and I ponder whether Mr. Oh loves surrounding himself with intimidating and terrifying people. Of course none I had seen could compare to his skills.

“What are these?” I ask confusedly glancing at the two sets of forms.

“That is the key to your future Mr. Byun” he murmurs distractedly and I pause. I mean this guy was telling me that the measly papers contained something this important and he wasn’t even bothered.

“I don’t understand sir”

“There seem to be a lot of things you don’t understand Mr. Byun for example, how to behave like a civilized human being, how to sign an NDA and an employment contract” he mocks and my head is about ready to burst. What was a fucking NDA? Why is he asking me to sign them? And why is there an employment contract in this when I was not searching for a job? Is he packing me off to some random country?

“Why am I required to sign this?” I inquire.

“Rafael” he sighs and begins a conversation in some foreign language.

“In order to retain your admission and to secure repayment for the losses the Director has suffered due to your inappropriate actions you will now be employed as an employee in Oh Enterprises for a period extending to but not limited to a year. The purpose of the Non-Disclosure Agreement is so that you do not disclose this to anyone you know or interact with” he informs robotically and my misery is so apparent that he takes the files from my trembling hands.

“This is unfair” I whisper trying to make sense of it. I had done a mistake but I don’t think it deserved such severe punishment.

“Naturally this is your choice Mr. Byun, there is no compulsion and you can refuse if that’s what you wish” he says casually and I resist the urge to scream. How was this called a choice? He had cornered me with the threat of expulsion and now I had no other option to keep my ass safe.

“Do you have a pen?” I murmur, defeated.

“If I work for Oh Seonsaengnim for a year will I be forgiven?” I probe.

“Depends Mr. Byun. Are you planning to frequently visit the clubs I intend to buy and throw beer on me?” he retorts sarcastically and I blush. I’ll be darned if I drink _water_ near him again.

“What about my other classes?”

It would be impossible to attend college when I was going to be working for him.

“You have an awful lot of questions for someone getting punished Mr. Byun” he comments wryly.

“The other teachers might give me failing grades if I’m not present in their classes” I mumble quietly.

“They won’t” his majesty pronounces bestowing a condescending look on me and strides out. _Right_.

His world. 

His rules. 

My legs wobble unsteadily and I collapse against the wall breathing deeply to prevent the panic attack that’s waiting to blow up.

This was going to be an _absolute joy_.

I sulk alone until Chanyeol finds me worried out of his wits.

"What are you doing here? Isn't the class over already? I was scared some creep had kidnapped you" he shrieks and I shudder as I remember the nightmare again.

“Who would be crazy enough for that Yeol?”

“Honey you are too cute to be walking alone” he retorts. "

I talked to him" I say as if that should explain the whole deal.

"And?" he prompts impatiently.

"Basically I am his bitch for the whole semester or lord knows how long! Yeol are all good looking men such assholes?” I groan. Wasn't this blackmail? I mean where was the logic? What if it had been a girl? Would he have bullied her as well? Could I possibly take it to the Chairwoman? Oh wait I totally forgot the part where she was his mother. Perks of being born with a silver spoon in your mouth.

“No. I’m never an asshole” he insists.

“Cause your parents and I raised you well” I tease and he puts me in a choke hold.

"You should just get a sugar daddy" he notes thoughtfully and I chuckle uncontrollably.

"You know that doesn't sound so bad at the moment" I sigh and he smacks me.

"I'll kill him first and then you" he threatens.

"Dumb Yoda" I giggle hugging him.

He was the dose of sunshine that I needed in my life constantly. No matter what Chanyeol always brightened me up and he was the kind of person who would never bother you with his own problems but accept all of yours as if they were his. For the people he loved every day was beautiful because of him. His fiercely protective and kind nature made your happiness his priority. It was my aim to be half the man he was and whenever I said that aloud he silences me by saying he was enough for the both of us.

“I am so tired” I whine as the exhaustion hits me.

“Let’s get you home then” Chanyeol says pulling me along with him.

Kyungsoo and Jongdae are lying on the couch watching the reruns of the Goblin TV show that I had promised to see with them. I flop down between them cuddling Jongdae and he ruffles my hair.

“You’re late for our marathon. Did you forget?”

“No I was stuck helping the others with their assignment” I mumble, mortified to tell him the story.

“You sure were” Chanyeol snickers and I glare at him. The last person who could find out about this was Kyungsoo.

“How is the new professor?” Kyungsoo asks next to me and I start sweating bullets.

“Great!” I blurt quickly edging farther away from him.

Kyungsoo’s beatings were deadly. When we were in 8th grade I had just come out of the closet regarding being gay and got bullied daily. I hid it from them for weeks but once I came home covered in purple bruises and Kyungsoo caught me treating the bleeding cuts. He pestered me persistently to reveal who they were but I made an excuse of falling from the bike and thought the chapter had been closed there. Little did I know he had started following me whenever I was on my own.

The seniors had just shoved me into a bathroom stall when Kyungsoo emerged from the empty stall. He told the senior to stop the senseless bullying but the dude must have had a fuse switched off. Before I could see what was happening he had broken the senior’s nose and was raining down hell on him.

God knew which one of us had a black belt in hapkido. I had never seen him like that. It was genuinely scary and I had to bring Chanyeol to pluck Kyungsoo off the unconscious senior. He was called Kid Buu until we graduated and since then I never messed with Kyungsoo for more than 2 minutes.

“What’s his name? Jongin might know him” he continues, oblivious.

“I don’t think so. This is his first teaching gig” I stammer badly.

“If he’s good enough to teach this soon then Jongin could have trained him” he clarifies.

“Indeed” I laugh realizing this wasn’t my day.

“Sehun” Chanyeol answers instead of me.

“Sehun what idiot?” Kyungsoo repeats.

“Oh Sehun” I exhale hastily taking shelter behind a pillar.

“Oh Sehun…?” he echoes.

“Isn’t he the founder’s son?” Jongdae pipes in.

“Sadly yes.”

“That is not even the cherry on top of the cake!” Chanyeol exclaims excitedly

“Chanyeol! Don’t be that traitor” I scream.

“What kind of trouble did you both get into?” Jongdae asks eyeing us suspiciously.

“For the first time I can say this with confidence that it was not me but only Baek” he grins.

“God can’t you let me be for a second?” I whine.

“This is for the greater good my love” He smirks.

“I hate you” I cry.

“So remember Baek’s disaster from the club?” Kyungsoo and Jongdae nod in unison.

“Turns out the guy is his new dance instructor” Chanyeol finishes with a flourish and Kyungsoo’s facial features become strained.

“Come here” he says gazing at me peacefully and that’s when I know how the senior must have felt.

“I didn’t know” I wail uselessly and he gestures me forward with his fingers.

“Please don’t hit me” I plead unleashing my most pitiful expression.

“Say one more thing and I’ll bury you alive” he speaks as I sit near his leg.

“Kyungja I really didn’t know. If I did I would have minded my business” I whimper as he grabs the tip of my ear.

“Well I’ve done my duty. I’ll be in the studio if you need me” Chanyeol bids goodbye.

“Don’t ever come back” I shout at his retreating figure and he hoots.

“Why is it so hard for you to..?” Kyungsoo begins and I realize it’s going to be a long night, probably my last as well.

The next morning Chanyeol arrives early holding two cups of my favorite coffee and I ignore him, climbing into the cab I had booked.

“Where are you going? he yells, tapping the closed window.

“Ajusshi please move I’m going to be late” I guide the driver and enjoy Chanyeol fumbling on the sidewalk. Serves him right. I couldn't believe how quickly he had thrown me under the bus yesterday. So much for being soul brothers.

"You're dressed warmly for this weather son" the old driver conveys beaming at me through the mirror.

"Actually I am sick ajusshi." The beanie was to mask the blaring red bump Kyungsoo had caused by flicking me until I groveled and swore to be a saint forever.

The rest of the drive is quiet and I arrive before most of the students. My first two hours were dance and my hands shook with the mere thought of it. Could I be more _pathetic_? Grabbing a large cup of tea from the cafeteria I loiter around in the hallways.

"Why the heck did you come in a cab when I came to pick you up?" Chanyeol questions and I pretend I don’t hear him.

"Excuse me do I know you?" I respond innocently.

"Quit being so dramatic Baek" he grunts. "Shut up limp dick! Don’t even talk to me" I snap.

"Come on that was one time!" he shouts as I march away from him.

"Still fucking counts Bozo!" I yell and bump right into the wall. _Stupid_.

I step back and find out it's not exactly a wall but rock hard abs. Deja Vu strikes me when Oh Seonsaengnim detangles me from his body.

“Are you making this a habit Mr. Byun?" He grits and I only register the way his chest feels under my palm.


	4. Conflicted

What had my extensive research in memes taught? That I, Byun Baekhyun resembled an electrocuted grasshopper while I danced or more accurately attempted to.

This was worse than the time Chanyeol had forcefully dragged me to the theater to catch the premier show of the Twilight Saga movie because he was curious about how Edward Cullen / the lead had skipped the apple that precisely.

Yes that is _correct_.

A strand of thread and clever scamming had given me violent nightmares for ages!

How has the whole class learnt this in four short hours? I couldn’t match my body to the rhythm though I had already seen him performing it thrice.

Well _seen_ is an understatement considering, I had intensely analyzed his every gesture not for the sake of learning but for the reason that he seemed like a fantasy come true.

His movements were dazzling and seamless, inspiring awe in those blessed to witness him. He twisted and turned in fluid waves, dominating the provocative melody. The harshness in the tune startled you whereas Mr. Oh invited your obsession. Embodying grace to the tip of his toes he made it difficult to feast on anything else.

He hadn’t wasted a moment since entering the exercise locale. The simple nod of his commanded respect and began the lesson with hushed discussions of his identity.

They were _smitten_ and _obedient_ , probably conspiring to gain favors from him. _Clueless_ to his ruthlessness.

In the brief sessions he had conducted clear boundaries were established and there was a blaring, red alpha sign on his side. Acknowledged and approved.

He communicated through numbers and pointers, prompting the rest of us to move as if we were possessed to achieve just the slightest bit of elegance he radiated. Of course when I mention we, it only implies the others. I couldn’t follow him during a single spin.

I shuffle around like a headless chicken distracting and disturbing the people behind me. I had heard so many “For Christ’s sake Baekhyun!” in the past 20 minutes that I lost count. My skills were miserable at best and it didn’t help that I was extremely out of my element.

Give me a mic and high notes any day.

The workout gear I had chosen was in stark contrast to theirs. I wore loose tracks that submerged my tiny legs, an oversized hoodie and chunky trainers that Minseok hyung called ‘ugly ass shoes’. No one could appreciate my fondness for these grey, limited edition Balenciaga’s that I tricked my father in to buying.

The longer I stumbled along, the clearer it became that getting an A- in the evaluation was not only impossible but also absurd. Even if I could somehow manage it once I wouldn’t be able to maintain the streak for all the assessments. It is obvious that I am destined for an F in each criteria.

Did he perhaps know how terrible I am that he imposed these exact conditions?

_Jokes on you Mr. Byun, I only have to lounge back and enjoy while you sabotage yourself_.

The choreography was dynamic to say the least and the fast paced section caused practically, everyone to wheeze frantically. Where I almost break my bones stretching, he oozed style and poise.

I was right. This man was the devil himself masquerading as a Greek god.

The large mirror reflected his stern glares whenever I slipped or lost balance. It was a message. _Clean up_ or _pack up_.

Well I beg your pardon but the one who had forbidden me from speaking was him. Now I couldn’t seek help from anybody. If he found that unbearable and insufferable, then he shouldn’t have pressured me to sign that damn thing!

The Lee Taeyong who blushed feverishly because of the mere mention of Chanyeol’s name was the sole individual able to imitate the versatility and expertise that he expected. His mask of fierce concentration was captivating as he absorbed the nuances that were being taught by Oh Seonsaengnim.

At a certain point the students pause ready to faint from rehearsing nonstop but they stay engrossed in their own world and the silence in the room turns serious and energetic. Breaking the trance, Taeyong bows politely and the song ends, bringing a genuine smile of pleasure that transforms his features. _Wow_. This was strange. The good kind of strange.

After an eternity of trying and failing to master the composition, I sit in the corner contemplating the universe’s sick retaliation. Soon the familiar crown of purple blob blurs my vision eagerly.

“Hyung hyung did you see me?” he babbles, a ball of enthusiasm.

“Of course, you were wonderful” I praise, cleaning his sweaty cheeks.

“Yay! But I couldn’t see you” he pouts and I secretly cringe.

“Don’t worry brat you didn’t miss anything” I comment wryly.

“Really?” he doubts and I accept, absolutely crushed.

“Tae yah teach me this routine. I missed the previous classes and I can't get the hang of it” I whine describing the spectacular mess I had made.

“Hyung is joking” he challenges stubbornly.

“You have too much faith in me child” I oppose and Beanpole aka Rafael, Oh Seonsaengnim’s Personal Secretary appears mysteriously. I’m glued to the wall while my limbs flail in different directions. Was this guy a vampire? He didn’t walk, he glided.

“Your appointment is scheduled for 9:00 am with the Director from tomorrow onwards. Being unpunctual increases the duration of your contract” he informs robotically.

“ _Jesus fuck man_!”

“Language Mr. Byun” he scolds, mouth curling in disgust and I resist the urge to start an argument.

“Assure the Director I will be there” I snap, patience gone for a toss.

“Who is that hyung?” Taeyong gulps regarding Rafael’s retreating form nervously.

“Satan’s guard dog” I mumble, distracted.

“That doesn’t make sense but when do you want to practice?”

“You have anything planned later?” I question.

“Nope” he confirms popping the p.

“Great! I’ll clear the gym” I reply and regret it eventually. He had brought the 'beast' along with him and the enormous 400 pounds bike was positively devilish, colored in midnight black.

"Are your parents out of town?" I inquire stomach in knots.

"Madrid. For business" he reveals ecstatic.

"Tae Tae, hyung doesn't mean to hurt you but it's definitely on the list of things I am willing to do if you over-speed" I frighten, subtly and climb the motorcycle.

The clock strikes 11 and fortunately I perform the routine without tripping. He applauds my success and we collapse on the floor exhaustion taking its toll. Unexpectedly, the door flings open and Chanyeol barges in agitated. Taeyong straightens instantly and struggles to fix his appearance. The little fool.

“Who let you in?” I demand cranky and petty.

“Your mom” he retorts tapping his foot impatiently.

“MOM DON’T WELCOME STRANGERS INTO THE HOUSE” I bellow from my position and Chanyeol lifts me from the ground.

“What are you doing?” I shriek slapping his chest and he strides to the balcony.

“Will you quit being a baby?” he tests, dangling me above the railings.

“I am going to strangle you to death” I shout clinging to him.

“Are you still mad?” he wonders pushing me farther.

“NO I AM FUCKING NOT!”

“Will you hit me?” he has the nerve to ask.

“What do you _think_?” I growl, very annoyed.

“Maybe I shouldn’t then” he smirks.

“Fine I won't! Are you happy?” I surrender and he sets me on the armchair. I was nauseous and adrenaline filled.

“Come listen to my new demo and I’ll buy everything in the pastry shop” he bribes.

“You are _insane_ ” I conclude, glaring.

“Please Baek you know this is important to me” he pleads and I groan.

He was preparing the tape for his most favorite singer on planet Earth – Zhang Yixing and he needed it to be beyond perfect. I elbow him painfully and drag Taeyong with me ignoring his complaints to flee. We reach the studio and Chanyeol unlocks it, similar to the neighbor's hyperactive Golden Retriever.

A woman’s smooth accent echoes from the speakers, attached to the various complicated equipment and blends flawlessly into the electronic theme of the track. Chanyeol raps in his deep, gravelly voice and that’s when I’m sold. The lyrics, the composition and the arrangement were addictive. It was sensual and extraordinary creating an illusion of sorts.

“Your honest opinion?” he pants, having slayed the verse.

“Dude that was _amazing_ , _outstanding_ and _phenomenal_ ” I congratulate, delighted.

“Tell me you’re not lying” he hopes hesitantly.

“No dumbass! This is officially my jam. He is going to worship your talent” I compliment happily.

“Taeyong what’s the verdict?” Chanyeol requests joyously and I realize that he hasn’t spoken since we arrived. He is burning red and for a second I imagine smoke gushing from his ears. Poor kid. His brain had finally malfunctioned because of our Gigantor.

“Of course he loves it” I laugh and pat him vigorously praying he would become aware of the situation.

“My manager submitted it and I cannot wait to receive the response” Chanyeol states and the phone rings interrupting. It was Jongdae.

“Sorry Yeol I have to go. Jongdae wants to meet in the café nearby and he sounded low. Can you please drop Taeyong? He left his bike in my garage” I explain hurriedly.

“Sure. No problem. I’ll catch you later” he says brow furrowing in concern and I hug them.

**Taeyong’s POV**

_Oh crap_ Baekhyun hyung is leaving.

Was this a hallucination?

I cannot be deserted in a room alone with this man who was more dangerous than a full scale earthquake. I am _not_ prepared for this.

What was I doing tagging along with them when I couldn’t even think when I'm next to him. Who was this willing to dig their own grave? I was hopelessly frozen in shock and the charming smile of his kept sucking me in like a black hole.

I see his pale, pink lips pucker and part as he forms a sentence but my ears are reeling from the physical, mental and psychological attack I had suffered. Who let this certified natural disaster strut around freely?

The neatly slicked back hair, torso barely covered in a tank top and muscles that flexed insultingly were a ploy daring me to lose the last speck of sanity I had managed to stick onto. I had _certainly_ reached my limit.

His rapping had been transcendental and dirty. Each word melded into my skin like a spellbinding tattoo, coursing inside my veins and bringing with it a longing I couldn’t control. Lost in his art, his eyes had shone passionately and my mind immediately forgot what it should be doing.

He was overwhelmingly magnetic and looked fucking incredible. I had never felt this frustrated in my entire life nor had I been religious enough to convey thanks to the heavens until this moment. Chanyeol sunbae became my holiest experience. There is no way I am alive and conscious and being shaken out of my semi coma by his large, warm hands.

“Are you alright?” he worries leaning close to examine my face and I realize how unbelievably turned on I am. Can anyone hide their erection when they’re clad in thin, tight jeans?

“Yes” I whisper. No Sunbae I am not and it is _your fault_.

“Man you really scared me there. You should respond when people question you” he chuckles and I blink rapidly.

“W-w-what questions?” I squeak while concealing my growing erection using the backpack.

“Why don’t you talk to me the way you talk to Baekhyun? I’m cooler than him.”

It has something to do with the fact that I don’t have a raging crush on Baekhyun hyung and he doesn’t make my heart skip or startle the way you do, I think but answer

“I know.”

“I don’t bite Tae ah” he grins and my vision blanks as I imagine him biting me. Did sunbae have no care for my raging teenage hormones?

“I should go” I stammer and turn to the opposite direction, not lingering for his reply.

“Hold your horses, buddy I’m the chauffeur” he says halting me abruptly and the bag slides from my grip, falling loudly in the awkwardness. I bend to retrieve it in a flash but when I gaze at Sunbae I know it is too late. His mouth hangs exposed and the confusion is evident.

“I’m sorry Sunbae. I didn’t- it isn’t- you don’t have to escort me anywhere. I’ll ride the subway” I murmur bolting towards the exit but he grabs me by the wrist. I thrash and wriggle to escape his clutch but he’s stronger than me.

“Are you…?” he probes and I cower in shame. I couldn’t believe how extreme my perverted thoughts were. I couldn’t even hear him without shivering.

“Sunbae please forgive me. I don’t want to make this more horrible” I plead facing away from him. This was the worst. I had ruined everything. He would never speak to me again. I bet he’s disgusted and upset.

“Taeyong I didn’t- do you- what can I” he splutters dumbfounded and tears prickle my eyes. It was plain rejection. What was I expecting? My ridiculous delusions had no bounds.

“I will call a cab” I say shrugging his clasp off and abandon the suffocating studio.

I feel my chin tremble as I scan the road for an empty taxi. Eventually the gravel on the path crunches and I rub furiously. I was not going to be that person who lost their shit on a damn lane in plain view of the public. I didn’t crave for anyone’s sympathy or their hypocrisy.

**Baekhyun’s POV**

That was an _Oscar_ worthy performance. I had deceived Chanyeol and Taeyong with my excuse about joining Jongdae in the espresso bar.

Geez it was impossible to have stayed longer in that room without disclosing extremely inappropriate details. Chanyeol’s obliviousness was a thing of _wonder_.

Taeyong was bright crimson and quaking after listening to him but he had pondered his reaction naively. Sometimes you need to push until it comes to shove and that’s exactly what I had done by disappearing. I wished Chanyeol could comprehend the magnitude of his feelings and stop tormenting him.

In my hurry to scram I had forgotten that I didn’t carry a jacket and now I was shivering like a stray cat waiting for Minseok hyung to pick me up. When I check the streets, suddenly Taeyong spills from the staircase.

I don’t shift from my spot and regard him silently. He kept inspecting either side of the highway as if searching for something. Why wasn’t Chanyeol beside him?

I come out of hiding and move to him. He wipes his face using the end of the sleeves and I sigh. I suppose nothing went the way both of us intended. I am going to bury Chanyeol 10 feet underground. He could have turned him down nice and easy.

“Tae ah” I beckon softly, unwilling to alarm him. He whirls around quickly and my heart breaks at the sight of his puffy, swollen eyes. I felt like a gigantic piece of poop for leaving him. I should have guessed it wasn’t always all flowers and confetti.

“Hyung you were here?” he sniffles. It should be a crime to make him cry. He seemed so pitiful and small.

“Yeah I lied” I admit sheepishly and his eyes widen considerably.

“You know don’t you?” he whispers unhappily.

“From the beginning” I confess.

“Everyone but him” he snickers bitterly and I loathe it.

“Tae what happened?” I question.

“I- I really liked his song and I r-r-reacted badly. I shouldn’t have” he hiccups.

“Shhh it’s okay. Please don’t cry baby” I comfort him.

“He hates me” he bawls relentlessly.

“No he doesn’t. Chanyeol has no reason to” I reassure him.

“I would if I were him” he sobs.

“No you wouldn’t. You’re kinder than that” I assert squeezing him securely and hear Minseok hyung honking behind us.

“Our car’s here. Let’s get my cookie monster in” I announce. It takes Minseok hyung one second to appraise the general ambiance and draw his conclusion.

“Who is in the mood for ice-cream?” he squeals, the 5 year old in him bursting forth and I thank him quietly.

“All the stores will be closed super hyung” Taeyong pouts, occasionally handling my shirt as his tissue. Not that I minded.

“What’s the point in owning a humongous restaurant if I can’t buy my little ones ice cream when they want?” he notes proudly and Taeyong laughs. Hyung was the go to remedy when everything is wrong. He would have you feeling warm and silly in an instant.

“Well said Minseok-ssi” I support the idea.

“Baekhyun ah hyung is very close to disowning you” he warns despising my formal use of his name.

“I would have no purpose in life without you” I exclaim dramatically and he snorts.

The lights in the restaurant are dim and the embroidered curtains are fastened. Piano music is playing and a petite male is arranging the flowers on the tables. His silver locks are illuminated as he flutters round the hall.

“Ten I’m going to fire you if you don’t resign” Minseok hyung declares frustrated and I wonder whether he is crazy.

“You can fire me boss. I’ll come back crawling” the boy chuckles leveling a stare at hyung. For the first time I truly wanted to flatter a guy for being pretty. His pointy nose, sweet beam and delicate eyes made him pretty.

“Don’t bother I’ll have the restraining order prepared before you cross the threshold” he informs and I watch their banter confused. Who was this cutie pie?

“Hello I’m Ten Chittaphon Leechaiyapornkul. The new kid on the block” he introduces himself.

“Hello I’m Baekhyun, Xiumin hyung’s younger brother and this is my hoobae Taeyong” I repeat the courtesy.

“I know boss never shuts up about you” he giggles regarding the baffled Taeyong curiously.

“I’m warning you don’t get attached. He’ll soon be the new kid on the street” Minseok hyung intervenes.

“Why do I waste my effort? I placed the ice creams in a bowl for you” he fumes playfully.

“Hyung can we keep him?” I pout, already fond of this weird child.

“He is not a pet Baekhyun” he groans.

“But he’s so cute”

“Seriously Baek! This is why I don’t bring you here often” he yells leaving us in defeat.

“Chocolate or Dark Chocolate?” Ten asks conspiringly.

“Both” I whisper, gleeful.

“Where were you all this while?” he screeches seating us at the counter and the conversation is spontaneous. He takes it upon himself to feed Taeyong who grows more flustered under the attention. Minseok hyung returns a while later and boots the reluctant Ten outside after much protesting. He bids a tearful farewell and promises to text me. Yes we had exchanged numbers faster than a bolt of lightning. We are meant to be. Taeyong’s gloomy attitude resumes and hyung ruffles his hair thoroughly.

“You’re too young to be worrying about this. Give the giant some space, he will understand” he advises.

“Super hyung knows as well?” he yells blushing.

“Tae yah you visit the washroom every two minutes when Chanyeol is there. So I figured between diabetes and this” hyung teases and he slams his forehead to the table.

“I just realized the trains locked long ago and I don’t have any money” Ten proclaims quickly squeezing himself between us.

“I’ll lend you the money” hyung interrupts but it’s obvious he has already lost the battle.

We go on for hours merrily and I didn’t want it to end. If only I could prolong this peace forever but tomorrow I would have to face the reality while bending and bowing to Mr. Oh Sehun.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Leave your comments about what you think about the ChanYong pairing :)


	5. Attraction

"Hands against the wall" instructs the large, burly attendant with the thick, bushy mustache.

"Excuse me?" I squawk, glowering wildly between the said barricade and him.

"This is protocol for all the new employees" he notifies blandly.

Entering this place was proving to be tougher than buying tickets for the Beyonce concert!

Where on Earth had I ended up in? I should have trusted the premonition I had in the porch of this massive palace people branded as a company.

Imposing floor to ceiling windows, enormous chandeliers, and luxurious art adorned every nook and corner of the space. I felt like a swine covered in dirt and grass while ignorantly sauntering into the premises.

I had been subjected to two different security clearances, where they had confiscated my phone, my wallet and my iPod. To prevent ‘ _breach of data_ ’ was their defense when I caused a commotion.

How is that possible and how am I supposed to survive this torture, deprived of my music around the border line megalomaniac CEO?

I was being supervised like the luggage that reaches the airport for check in. Human Resources Division had tagged me with the staff identification card and authorized access to the 28th and 29th floors. I concluded that is the Satan's domain.

They advised that I must immediately report to them if I confronted any discrimination, bullying or other kinds of inconveniences that might impair my ability to perform to the utmost of my abilities in a safe environment.

Who would I have to contact for registering a complaint about the CEO, for blatant harassment and liberal use of creative threats/insults, I had enquired only to be judged as an escapee from the psychiatric ward. May be it bewildered them beyond comprehension that a scrawny human such as me, can lay these misleading claims concerning the man at the top.

"I have nothing on me" I grumble incredulously. They had literally taken everything expect the clothes I had worn.

I couldn't open a jar of Nutella by myself, much less the highly protected systems of their database even if I was interested to explore that mega nerd mission.

"This is standard procedure" he echoes, tone leaning towards irritation. Why is he annoyed when I was the one being handled like a _damn virus_ that could destroy this planet in an instant?

"That is exactly what you had me believing at the last check point and now where are we John? You are secretly holding the Taser gun while I am plotting the quickest escape route. I am not a Ninja or an assassin" I protest using the most random name to frazzle the troll. I had already passed through those complex scanners and didn't understand what else they suspected me of possibly hiding?

"Mr. Byun if you fail to co-operate we have been directed to do whatever is required to ensure your compliance" he acquaints me with the unfavorable consequences. Granted, I was meeting _the_ Oh Sehun but this was really blowing things out of proportion. Who did this snobby bastard think he was?

"That will not be necessary" I fume angrily and heed the rude warning. He pats me carefully and I clench my teeth in frustration, the whole time. _Great_. This is totally the kind of welcome I was anticipating. Instructing me to move ahead, he retrieves my jacket and sneakers from the counter.

"I will be retaining this Mr. Byun and you may collect it when you are leaving." he informs depositing the silver ring I always carried.

When I was very young I had discovered it on the swings at the playground abandoned by the previous owner. It was lying on the ground beckoning my gullible mind with a sort of power I had been unable to resist. Though it had reminded me of my mother's aversion to anything remotely dishonest I had pocketed it stealthily and cherished the shimmering band.

It was the source of comfort and reassurance that I sought from the nerves. The fit had been perfect for my thumb then and miraculously, now it encircled the pinkie finger. Well to be fair my growth spurt had forsaken me faster than the remaining kids of my age and botched the puberty phase. I was still waiting for that Adam’s apple to pop. Where my classmates sported shirts to emphasize their increasing brawn I had uncovered my skinny arms in sleeveless tanks to display the measly muscles I had developed.

Chanyeol had bestowed the title ‘spaghetti king’ on me but I disagreed. If any comparisons were to be made, I believe it would be appropriate to call them thunder bolts. When I held them high they formed lightning shaped figures.

"I am going to draw the line there. You cannot forcefully seize my possessions without my consent" I practically shout brashly.

"We are only obeying the directives given to us Mr. Byun" he reiterates monotonously.

"What can I hide in this itty bitty ring?" I demand stubbornly.

"An itty bitty microchip that transmits any intelligence you gather" he ridicules.

"Intel-inte-intelligence? _What_?" I splutter unable to believe the kind of crap that he was spouting in a straight faced manner.

"If you could read the latest manual on espionage Mr. Byun you would certainly appreciate my apprehension" he discloses seriously and my palm itches to hit something.

"Don’t bother John. We both know you found that bullshit in the millions of spy movies you shamelessly watched on repeat” I retort, irked at the treatment I was receiving.

"Not particularly Mr. Byun but it must have been when you were crying over Princess Diaries" he sasses positively burning with pride. Had I just gotten owned by the dude who resembled a bloated walrus? _Humiliating_. 

"Thank you for manhandling me. It was so nice of you and I am sure your children are extremely proud of their father" I respond scornfully.

"I am impotent Mr. Byun" he announces demonstrating a pronounced sneer as I set foot in the elevator and scan the tag for the 29th level.

"Oh fuck yourself John" I yell exasperatedly and hear them chuckle. _Fucking bullies_. They were banding together and hazing a child.

I am greeted by a blast of chill air when I enter the opulent reception area and a pair of tall, attractive, groomed, brunette women glide across the lobby much like the rest of the people. Did they organize crash courses for that? Because their synchronization was impeccable.

"Mr. Oh is ready to see you Mr. Byun" they disclose simultaneously and I recoil in surprise. This type of uniformity was downright petrifying.

"Can’t say I share the same excitement" I murmur to myself passing the staggering oak doors. When they click close behind, the sense of being caged and having my freedom snatched away strikes sharply. The yearning to return the way I had arrived is stronger than anything I have ever experienced. _Goodbye world_ I mourn.

The corridor stretches inwards endlessly and I trail it growing more discouraged. What happened to the simplicity is the best policy?

Did this man never have anything in his life _uncomplicated_ and _unsophisticated_? He made it ludicrous to revel in the lavishness.

Everything screamed expensive: his fortune, his habits, his employees, his expectations, his achievements and above all him. It was too burdensome.

Finally the sprawling cabin slides into picture and I pause bewitched by the sculpted perfection inside. The sunlight shone on his mane of beautiful hair creating a Halo and it is easy to just admire him from the distance forgetting his talent for being a gigantic pain in the ass.

The fickle light surely knows how to play tricks: turning the fiction into reality.

Elegant veined hands skim the strewn papers, plump lips brush in unison as he broods and the frown of concentration is etched between his brows. The chiseled planes of his sinful frame make the crisp, white shirt cling to him and the pin striped pants clasps his butt snugly while he bends forward.

If only he wasn't such a dick to me I would actually idolize him, perhaps try harder to be in his good graces. But the infuriating truth was that he had compelled me to slog under him despite the fact that this would not help either of us.

"Mr. Byun if you are finished, gawking please be seated. There is a lot to be accomplished today" booms Mr. Oh's wry invitation and I leap ahead shocked due to the sudden intrusion.

Where did that come from?

_Bloody hell_! He had cameras and speakers installed in the ceiling to gratify his paranoia.

Embarrassment fuels my pace and I am traumatized at being caught in the act. I had definitely not done that on purpose.

"Good morning Seonsaengnim" I greet bowing politely and he disregards the courtesy, wholly immersed in the pages in front of him. Go figure.

"I am not your teacher Mr. Byun. Neither do I consider you my student nor do I have the patience to entertain such whims" he remarks indifferently.

"What should I refer to you as Seonsaengnim?" I stress the designation and earn an unimpressed scowl.

"Here, I am the person who controls thousands of people's fates Mr. Byun and rather precariously to keep them on their toes. You unfortunately happen to be one of those variables" he clarifies casually.

_Arrogance_. It radiated from every pore of his being.

Or more accurately, it was conviction.

He was entirely confident of his capability and authority. The most self-assured man I had crossed paths with and a risk that paid off.

If he decided to pull the plug on anything it would not be because he had the power, but for the sole reason that he had exhausted its worth and usefulness.

"I wasn’t exactly given the choice to decline" I chime in, immediately.

"Humor Mr. Byun comes at an expense" he warns sternly and I sigh. Everything seemed to work that way around him.

His mind was a labyrinth of strategies and I shuddered to imagine what he was potentially plotting or scheming.

Having never solved a Rubik's cube, I had no hope of cracking this egoistic god's motives.

He shifts to adjust the sapphire cufflinks of his button-down and something silver glints between the cleft of his slightly exposed chest. It is a necklace. Distractedly I step nearer to observe the hanging chain and find an intricate, glimmering phoenix pendant. It was small and delicate with outspread wings encircled by a sphere of brilliant gems. It wasn't showy yet it garnered your attention.

"Beautiful" I whisper, awestruck.

"You seem to have no respect for others personal space" he remarks, frowning and I retreat hastily. _Real smart, Baekhyun real smart_.

Why do I provide opportunities for this guy to despise me? Were we destined to hate and repel each other?

My hate however had a dash of attraction masked beneath.

"What duties will I be assigned to sir?" I inquire changing tacks.

If I had assumed the exterior was stunning then I didn't know what to surmise his office as. Huge shelves were decked with signed memorabilia, amazing paintings, vintage books and leather settees occupied the center. A liquor cabinet contained bottles of scotch, bourbon, vodka, gin, whiskey that by law he was forbidden from consuming.

There isn’t a single thing about him that indicates he is barely a young adult. He ran an empire better than the best of the best businessmen, he had amassed staggering wealth in five minutes and no one could predict what he would own in 10 of those.

"You will be responsible for arranging my schedule, fixing appointments, organizing events, conferences, booking reservations, taking dictations, compiling and preparing reports/presentations, filtering my correspondence, etc." he lists, like I should have been aware of these beforehand. How am I going to cope with this ton of workload? He indeed meant to have me at his beck and call.

"So I am Mr. Oh's secretary?" I wonder aloud connecting the dots.

"Well you aren't as simpleminded as I gave you credit for Mr. Byun" he states, faking astonishment.

"Why doesn't Mr. Oh have his personal secretary?" I query, aggravated. He was filthy rich and could employ an entourage, to ass kiss every moment of his existence. He clearly didn't need me.

"He is suspended temporarily thanks to the misadventure you successfully dragged us into" he condemns revealing the ' _you uncivilized animal_ ' gaze and a hint of guilt seeps in.

"Oh" I utter, meekly. I suppose I had embraced trouble myself.

"But I have zero experience in all of that" Not once had I boiled an egg properly much less managed somebody’s complete schedule from A to Z. It was a disaster waiting to unfold.

"Rafael will familiarize you to the procedure and guide you through the difficulties" he elaborates.

"What? Beanpole?! He loathes me!" I object.

"Beanpole?" He recaps studying me dubiously.

"That is his...sort of unofficial name" I stutter and he exhales, visibly displeased.

"Mr. Byun this is not for your benefit, it is entirely mine. Keeping that in view it doesn't matter to me whether you are fond of who you’re working with or what you're working on" he speaks firmly.

"Yes sir" I mutter, amply scolded.

"If I hadn't made it evident the first day then let me confirm my intentions again. When I say jump you say how high. That is the extent of obedience I seek from you and that is what you must aim for" he illustrates and I shed invisible tears.

"And for the next 12 months Mr. Byun I am exclusively your priority and you will be my " he pauses as if enjoying a private joke.

" _Criado_ " he ends and I ponder the foreign word ignorantly. He was conversing in Spanish. Did he not want me to grasp what he was insinuating?

"What does that mean?" I ask, anxious and fazed.

"I presume you will learn soon enough. Mr. Byun unless you have any further relevant requests I would prefer proceeding to the meeting" he declares coolly and strides out, after dumping stacks and stashes of files for me to lug. _Terrific_.

I shadow his path quickly while straining to avoid my clumsiness. His polished shoes and elongated legs carry him farther effortlessly but I struggle. The guards surround us, similar to a swarm of bees and remind me of the ridiculously exaggerated dramas Jongdae subscribed to.

Halting near a potted plant he appraises it reflectively. I cannot fathom a sarcastic jibe as I absorb his serious posture and wonder whether the shrub was symbolic and significant. Everyone vacates the premises discreetly and I take the cue.

"Min Jun the keys, please" he summons and the driver exits the flaming, red Ferrari. Before I comprehend what is happening, it is flicked in my direction and I gape obnoxiously.

"I am hoping you know how to drive Mr. Byun" he speculates doubtfully.

"I do. Absolutely. Yes" I react.

"Excellent. If you may" he mentions advancing to the passenger seat. I break into a cold sweat and slink in unsteadily. Why the heck did he trust me with a fucking Ferrari? I wasn’t by any means a bad driver but Mr. Oh scrutinizing and criticizing the whole deal, I would undoubtedly crash it.

That is the effect he provoked in me.

“Where are we going Sir?” I probe adjusting and inspecting the various dials.

“The address has been inputted in the GPS, follow the route map” he comments and notices me fidgeting. 

I begin the navigation and it takes us approximately a quarter of an hour to wind up at the destination because I hadn’t dared to maneuver the car as I pleased. We stop outside a colossal structure and I am stunned into silence. His security detail arrives shortly and unlocks the door for him. He exits the vehicle smoothly and I scurry hot on his heels, carrying the lump of documents he had entrusted to me.

“Where are we Sir?”

“The company headquarters” he provides ambiguously.

“Then what was that building from before?” I deliberate, curious.

“That is my personal department” he explains and the aloof expression tells me I should have probably done my research.

_Extravagance_. He seemed to indulge in it thoroughly.

A team of black, suited professionals join the group and diligently deliver individual briefs which eventually become my obligation to accept. He keeps marching forever and my shoulders ache from the weight. When I am finally on the verge of dropping them, the cubicle approaches and I thankfully put it on the table. The blonde woman drapes his coat to the rack and is dismissed.

“Mr. Byun fetch a cup of coffee” he orders from the chair.

“How much sugar should I add Mr. Oh?” I ask controlling the urge to curse furiously.

“Three cubes” he articulates.

I examine the wide passage and realize I had no clue about where the coffee machine was located. Aimlessly roaming around, I peep inside each room and hunt for it. I get hopelessly lost in the maze of corridors and don’t even remember where I had begun the journey for the godforsaken beverage.

This was the cherry on top of the cake.

The hallways are empty and I search for any sign of personnel who can point me in the correct direction but there is nobody in sight. It was too quiet and creepy.

I wandered this far might as well blindly continue. With that notion I round the curve and stroll recklessly until I hear vague, disconnected noises.

Was someone _panting_?

Where was it coming from?

My curiosity peaks and I investigate the source of the sound. The erratic breathing intensifies frantically and I discern a hidden alcove.

Soft, masculine laughter echoes sensually and I automatically stick to the wall. The light is dull and dim but their flushed faces are occasionally illuminated. I stress my vision for a better portrayal of the scenario and perceive their sexual position.

Initially I cannot process what had captured my attention then in a rush, awareness floods me.

I should have run away from there.

I should have retreated silently and tried to forget what I had witnessed.

But I did not implement any of these sensible and reasonable ideas. It was like my feet were made of lead and attached to the ground.

I was shackled by the fascination and all I could do was watch in horrified fixation.

One of the men--and with a little jolt of additional shock I recognized that it wasn't some man but the legendary artist Zhang Yixing. He stands straight and his spine is pressed against the pillar of the alcove. His head is tilted backward and he gulps the air greedily.

Another husky giggle draws my eyes downward to the male on his knees. His lush, bronze hair clumps and masses in different directions.

_Leave_! My mind screams at me but I am transfixed by their passionate exchange. The man's slender lips part as they undo the zipper of the jeans and his tongue licks a stripe across Mr. Yixing's thighs provocatively. Suddenly the dainty man's crown bobs suggestively and I almost gasp.

That is when a large hand cups my jaw protectively and covers my mouth from behind. It muffles the short grunt that I exhaled from the alarm. I am yanked and slammed against a warm body until the oxygen is knocked from my constricted lungs. The familiar scent of musk and cinnamon invades my senses and the intoxication surges through rapidly.

"Satisfying unfulfilled fantasies Mr. Byun?" Mr. Oh whispers, his words caressing my ear lobes and I hush the moan that threatens to spill from me. His breathing stirred the tiny hairs on my neck, sending a shiver into every cell of my body. Blushing scarlet I tremble at the proximity and feel the scorching heat that radiated among the fabric of our clothes. His hand does not budge and I clutched it, to steady myself.

My heart drums so violently I fear Mr. Oh hears and scorns it.

There is a strange fluttering deep in my belly and I unconsciously crave his exhilarating touch. His sharp hip bones brush against my waist and every inch of me that was attached to him burned fiercely. What was he doing to me?

“Although they are a riveting spectacle, you must not impose uninvited” Mr. Oh muses and I nod to deny his speculations.

“Are you perhaps imagining yourself in that situation?” Mr. Oh smirks and I am mortified. His guess was true and accurate to the core. Only my imagination had him gliding his fingertips over me and NO NO NO. _Don’t_ go there Baekhyun _don’t_!

Our intimate stance made it impossible to think and clouded my judgment, pushing me down a dangerous road. Am I _attracted_ to Mr. Oh?


	6. Criado

The mobile screen is illuminated with the notification sign and the vibration for a message revives me from pondering the enigma that is Oh Sehun. I felt the beginnings of a nasty headache creep along the base of my neck, when the missive from the Administrative aid requests the attendance of students from the B Section at the college in exactly an hour.

_Are they kidding me?_

I had just dusted off the grueling duty of being a Secretary and the utter mortification to getting caught in an extremely compromising situation. Not too long ago I realized I was a bloody peeping Tom and didn’t need their help in piling on to the misery. I was doing spectacularly well by myself.

I log in to the chat group created by the sophomores to confirm the timetable and the dance slot is green. I refresh the tab frequently but it remains glaringly highlighted. _Gosh dang it._

What good fortune to be blessed abundantly with his Majesty’s existence for nearly 24 hours.

An absolute fucking joy!

.

.

.

.

Not.

The Gods were seriously testing my patience. Wasn’t it enough bearing him in the office that now I have to endure him during the class!

My straying nerves were still reeling from the drop of temptation I had tasted and allowing my unpredictable desire to deepen. 

What had that been about?

Why had I reacted to the proximity between our bodies and sought the touch that was so unknown yet inquisitive?

It was perfectly meaningless and mischievous until I began wishing the heat linking our skin beneath the layers of clothes lingered and seeped into me. This burning reminder etched in my memory didn’t make any sense whatsoever just as the longing that accompanied it.

I disliked him intensely.

_But not his soft strokes._

I loathed the mien of arrogance he wore confidently.

_But not the trivial embrace._

I was repelled by his condescending attitude.

_But was only enticed by his smug teasing._

At least that is what I had been led to believe by my emotions.

However, the moan I had almost released while his fingers caressed my jaw was nothing short of a denial to the very statement I had placed my faith in.

Honestly, I had dated my fair share of men and blissfully indulged in many sexual experiences with them. But none of those shallow flings had ever sparked this confusion or this self-consciousness, which was frightening considering the fact that he was my boss and my teacher.

I mean I have done plenty of stupid things in my life but having the hots for Mr. Oh was by far the stupidest of them all.

I clock out and stand idle on the pavement contemplating whether to attend or fake an excuse when a sleek, black, Porsche parks in the lane.

I step behind cautiously and someone walks past. That someone is the man currently filling my imagination and it sends a thread of awareness through me.

 _No. Nope. Nada._ That’s definitely a _negative_.

I was not aware of him and I would not be aware of him.

After a great deal of ‘paying no attention’ to me he acknowledges that I exist and gives me the once over silently. Obviously I am only able to observe this from the corner of my eyes (damn near dislodging them), unwilling to return the gesture. My cheeks burn with barely restrained excitement and the discomfort in my stomach grows.

Could I make the coincidence any more awkward?

“Mr. Byun I did not dismiss you early so that you could loiter around” he lectures. _You demon I had to beg to be dismissed and you finally agreed because I disorganized your fricking files._

“I am waiting for a cab, not loitering Mr. Oh” I clarify sourly.

“Since we are headed in the same direction, you may accompany me” he suggests sliding onto the driver’s seat and I gape disbelievingly. Was he offering to chauffeur me?

Did he grasp the extent of chaos or the uproar it would cause when an irrelevant person like me tailgated him anywhere, much less to the Academy he owned? The snooping spectators and gossipmongers would flip their shit and then some.

“It is alright Sir. I wouldn’t want to trouble you unnecessarily. Besides I have to collect my workout gear from my house” I decline politely and mercifully he agrees.

“I expect to see you in precisely 45 minutes Mr. Byun. Do not be late and certainly do not entertain any notions of escaping” he advises scanning the golden watch on his wrist.

Yes, of course your Highness why wouldn’t you? Unreasonableness is, was and will be your forte. The world definitely revolves around your wishes, especially mine because I am the damn puppet that you keep dangling blatantly according to your whims and fancies.

I release a heavy sigh and mentally prepare myself for the impending torture and never ending agony. I had no energy left in me to handle him but seeing how he had made the requirement of my presence mandatory I couldn’t possibly cancel like I had been planning previously.

I reach in the nick of time having barely managed to head home and grab the required materials. Hacking coughs escape me as I catch my outraged breath and he glowers at me distastefully while I make myself scarce. He was single handedly crushing my entire game and I could do nothing but enable him.

“Hyung, I haven’t seen you from morning” Taeyong greets from his assigned position.

“Ah I must have forgotten. Hyung went and bagged himself a job” I answer evasively.

“A job? Why does Hyung need one of that?” he balks, as if the idea itself was offensive.

"You pampered punk. What do you know about hard work? A man should be independent always” I scold him defensively.

“I don’t get these adults” Taeyong mutters and fidgets skittishly.

“Spit it out” I probe. This kid was easy to read.

“Did Sunbae say something about yesterday?” he stutters.

“He didn’t. Was it important?” I wonder what the fool had done.

“Nothing. I had asked him to lend me the new game for the Nintendo Supreme” he brushes it off and I regard him peculiarly while he struggles for composure.

As usual I am a natural mess and my fatigue doesn’t help the situation. If anything I make more mistakes and it frustrates me continuously. I struggle so visibly that even Mr. Oh can’t ignore me. He adjusts my posture, my landing and my thrice, each time more irritable than earlier. I go to great lengths to not give him an opportunity to correct my faults but I eventually fail.

_So much for try and try until you succeed._

After two exhausting hours the class finally ends on a bitter note and I cannot contain the string of curses that had balled inside me over the course of the session. I retrieve my discarded bag in defeat and stride towards the exit.

“I will be selecting a group of five individuals for the Astaire Dances Repertory hence those interested in participating must submit their individual pieces by Saturday. Mr. Byun I will require you to stay behind but the rest may disperse” he concludes and my throat feels clogged with dry sand.

I really did not want to be alone with this man right now. All attempts to ignore the reason for my flailing concentration were proving to be pointless and I didn’t need his undivided attention focusing on me as I fumbled for my lost sensibilities.

Reluctantly nodding I settle for contemplating quietly next to the wall. When the last of the students evacuate the area Mr. Oh lounges by the support railings and drinks a bottle of chilled water. I savor the sight and the empty bottle is soon whizzing into the waste bin close to me. I recoil in shock and realize it was a warning. _A warning to get my shit together._ Had he perhaps noticed how harebrained I was being?

“Mr. Byun why are you here?” he muses calmly and I wonder what he’s getting at.

“Because my application was accepted” I answer uncertainly.

“I am not sure why you decided it would be acceptable to choose my subject for your Major” he puzzles and if I had not been observing him so thoroughly I would have mistaken it for an innocent question instead of the veiled insult that it was.

“I chose it because I wanted to learn how to dance and also improve my skills as an all-rounder. Any artist, even an aspiring one must always evolve through their efforts” I try to answer neutrally but my voice comes out sharper than I intended it to.

“A truly admirable perspective Mr. Byun but wouldn’t it more prudent if you applied this conviction to your strengths rather than your weaknesses?” he asks, a portrait of leisure.

“Shouldn’t we conquer our fears and weaknesses in order to become strong Mr. Oh?” I retort.

“That would be the expected norm had there been a scope for progress. I am told I have a keen intuition for discovering remarkable talents and so far Mr. Byun I have yet to witness a speck of that from you” he continues criticizing.

“You have taught me for less than a week Mr. Oh; on what basis did you decide that I was incapable of being here?” I demand indignantly.

“On the basis of everything I have seen so far. And I can assure you Mr. Byun that you do not belong here” he declares uninterested in the effect his words had produced.

“Aren’t you being unnecessarily rude Mr. Oh?” I question harshly.

“Not at all Mr. Byun I afford the same treatment to any of the incompetent people I come across” he states impassively and I want to drill a hole into his skull to understand on what degree of narcissism he operated.

“I have been working extremely hard from the beginning to get where I am my without being a hindrance to anyone but you are always discrediting it and belittling me. You refuse to give me half the chance you give the others" I fume anger making me forget who I was talking to or how.

"Follow me" he clips out and I trail behind him in confusion.

"Mr. Oh Where are we going?" I was half afraid that I would have to face the aftermath of my rant. He doesn't answer and soon we're in his car travelling to an unknown destination.

"Seatbelt" he instructs curtly and I realize that I was so distracted in deciphering his mood, I had forgotten about it.

"Mr. Oh could you please tell me where we are going?” I try again but there is no response from him. He is stoic and shows no signs of acknowledging me. Guess he was giving me the cold shoulder.

I am flustered when I realize that Mr. Oh and I were alone in this small, confined space for god knows how long. I couldn't control my wayward gaze as it pursued his lean but well-built frame and the powerful, veined arms clutching the steering wheel. This might be the first occasion in which I've seen him donning casual attire and it is dazzling.

It was a simple, maroon Henley and jeans for fucks sakes, yet I was drooling uncontrollably. I had a pesky feeling that he could wear a sweat band, glitter pants, neon shirts and he would still look infinitely better than 99.9% of the population. The remaining 0.1% was him when he was dressed like he had walked out of the cover of a GQ Magazine.

That's the truth.

_Oh Sehun has no competition._

_Oh Sehun is his own competition._

No matter how many times I reminded myself to resist him, strangely I got dragged into it further. He was a vacuum of charm and anyone who didn't succumb to it deserved every amazing award in this universe.

They say the only way to get rid of temptation is to yield to it and you will eventually grow sick of it. I don't think there's the remotest possibility in all the impossibilities where Mr. Oh would even regard me with anything but irritation and annoyance much less as a source of appeal.

We arrive outside a large building, almost as humongous as Mr. Oh's personal department. The lights are dim and the gates are closed. There is not a soul to be seen in the reception area and the elevators are the only point of activity. There are rows of doors in each hallway and boards indicating the purpose of the rooms. It could pass for a studio but not quite.

The 11th floor however, is brightly lit and electronic music booms from the cavernous gallery. Two men are engaged in playful fighting and they didn't notice our entry.

"I am glad that the millions I am investing in your Company are providing enough leisure for the Directors to frolic around happily" Mr. Oh interjects gruffly.

"Aww looks like Sehunnie missed his Hyungs too much" answers the taller of the duo.

" _Jongin_?"

"Baekhyun what are you doing here?" he questions equally surprised before pulling me in for a hug.

"That's what I'd like to know" I quip, smothered against his chest.

"How do you know Mr. Byun?" Mr. Oh asks eyebrows inclined in curiosity.

"He is Kyungsoo's friend" he answers gleefully and a sneaky smile engulfs him. _Very subtle_.

"Yixing haven't I warned you to keep Jongin away from that devil worshipper?" He hassles and I almost scoff. That was _rich_ coming from him.

"That's Hyung for you rascal and I tried but he wouldn't listen to me" Mr. Zhang Yixing scolds, locking him in a choke hold. I am so flabbergasted by the scene in front of me that I stand stock still.

“Kyungsoo is not a devil worshipper. He’s an innocent penguin” Jongin asserts, upset. _Now where did he get that idea from?_ Kyungsoo was positively terrifying.

"I apologize for his behavior Lay, I should have raised him better" came, the crystal clear voice from beside him and the air around them sparkles and fizzles in inexplicable energy. _Cute couple alert_.

"Could you please refrain from crediting yourself for my upbringing? You had no part to play in it except for the time when you taught me how to smoke the Cuban Cigars, Uncle had bought from his trip to the Dominican Republic" Mr. Oh opposes.

"Myeon did you seriously besmirch a young child with your wicked predilections" Mr. Zhang questions, shock clinging to him.

"He is reverting to his Oxford vocabulary. Why do you have to rat Junmyeon hyung out Sehun-ah?" wails Jongin.

"Lay before you jump to conclusions you must remember that I am too cute to die and whose humor would have you clutching your abdomen in barely controlled, sweet laughter" the man professes like a knight from a Shakespearean story and I find it ridiculously captivating.

"If I wanted to watch a third rate drama I would have visited one of my greedy relatives" Mr. Oh interrupts their exchange, his plump lips stretching thinly. Guess I wasn't the only one he was rude to.

"Sehun ah you should count your blessings for being my cousin. That bratty attitude would have gotten you buried 10 feet under if you were anyone else" the new visitor threatens.

"Do you realize there is a guest in our midst?" Jongin pipes in exasperatedly. _About time_. I was beginning to review the periodic table in my mind to distract myself from their comfortable banter that I was not meant to be privy to.

"Where are my manners?" he wonders suavely.

"You had none to begin with" Mr. Oh claims, earning a glare.

"My apologies. I am Kim Junmyeon, the owner of Empire Magazine" the short man introduces himself, suddenly adopting the demeanor of a dazzling businessman. Is this why he seemed so familiar? I nod in return, gazing intensely at the mirror on the opposite side.

"Why won't he respond?" Mr. Zhang asks after the silence crawls stubbornly.

"That would be due to the scar he's gained by accidentally intruding on your forbidden tryst" Mr. Oh betrays wryly and I wince under the onslaught of distress. He had been with Mr. Zhang in the alcove. I wished the ground would swallow me whole and never let me return.

"He caught me performing oral sex on Xing?" Mr. Kim grins deviously and my vision blurs. Why were they highlighting every explicit detail so casually? I was a stranger for all intents and purposes.

"Is it absolutely necessary to be this crass?" Mr. Oh clucks disapprovingly. No it is not necessary. In fact this whole ordeal is not necessary. I shouldn't have to be here if the whole conversation would center around uncensored topics.

I don't know how but I have instinctively used Jongin as a shield and cowered behind him. He is the only person who is rational or partly sane amongst us.

"Baekhyun they are not so difficult once you get to know them" Jongin assures.

"I'll reserve my judgment for later Jongin ah" I whisper closely and he chuckles.

"Baekhyun is it?" Mr. Kim strikes a foxy smirk that pulls the curved ends of his lush mouth.

"Yes Sir" I finally squeak, nervousness failing my resolve.

"Please call me Junmyeon hyung. The next time, you need not remain an innocent bystander Baekhyun, Yixing and I believe in the more the merrier concept" Mr. Kim simpers predatorily and I wheeze. The tip of my ear turns into molten lava and my clutch on Jongin's arm is deathly. Was I propositioned for a threesome?

"Alright that is enough. He still has 11 months and 29 days to complete his Contract and you're scarring him beyond repair" he asserts and I am grateful before the second part of the sentence registers.

"You are counting?" I mutter.

"What contract?" Mr. Zhang wonders.

"I am here for a reason and this unnecessary gossiping is delaying that motive" Mr. Oh commands a measure of decorum between us.

"Here I had assumed that you were finally making an effort to check if your Hyungs were alive" Mr. Kim sighs disappointedly.

"Yixing he is your responsibility starting from this week" Mr. Oh conveys and I gasp in disbelief.

"This is not a daycare Sehun-ah. You cannot dump a 14 year old whenever you please and disappear"

"I am 21! And I don't use a fake ID to get inside the clubs anymore" I splutter in my defense.

"Congratulations. I'll have to invite you for a drink soon" he continues as if we were the best of buddies.

"Getting back to the issue at hand. Sehun why did you want Yixing hyung to take responsibility for Baekhyun?" Jongin reminds, repeating the question I had been speculating myself.

"Mr. Byun needs extensive guidance in dancing and I lack the patience for it" he explains exasperatedly.

"That is a little out of the blue Sehun-ah. I have hundreds of trainees to coach already. I don't see how I can help Mr. Baekhyun" Mr. Zhang apologizes.

"Test him" is all he utters in return and I go into full blown panic mode. He was putting me on the spot and I had no skills that could genuinely back it up. This was YJ Entertainment and a nobody like me couldn't possibly compare to the plethora of talent being honed here.

They scrutinize me quietly and I squirm beneath the pressure of the shrewd assessment from these brilliant, gifted legends. I couldn't have felt more out of place.

"Why don't you sing for us Baekhyun? Anything you're comfortable with" Mr. Zhang directs and suddenly my mind draws a blank, like I didn't possess ten different IPods containing thousands of songs individually.

"Would you prefer the piano to go along with it?" Mr. Kim queries perceiving my palpable apprehension.

"Yes. That would be better" I answer anxiously occupying the stubby, ebony chair.

I press each of the chords in succession allowing the keys I had gotten accustomed to soothe my alarmed nerves. The lyrics float in my subconscious and I surrender to the symphony, suddenly coveting the release.

 

_Tonight's moon_

_Looks so very desolate_

_You too must live_

_Clenching an empty heart_

 

_I lay in my empty room_

_Thoughts of this and that fill me up_

_I sigh, exhaling a cloud of cigarette smoke_

_Another day passes_

_Nothing works out for me_

 

_My love has left me_

_The liquor in my glass reflects the moon in the sky_

_So we take turns sipping to spend the night_

 

_Tonight the moon_

_Looks so very desolate_

_You too must live_

_Clenching an empty heart_

 

_When it rains_

_The clouds sail over you_

_So the dark streets feel more desolate_

_Walking alone_

The melancholic tune plunging the ballroom dissipates slowly and I pivot to gauge the reactions of my esteemed audience. Their expressions range from pure astonishment to delight and the serenity in Mr. Oh agitates me. I suppose I aced that mock audition.

"What is the problem Sehun?" Jongin's outburst startles everyone.

"I am curious myself as to why you are ridding yourself of this fluffy, adorable puppy when he croons so mesmerizingly and melodiously" Mr. Kim accuses solemnly.

"Mr. Byun, connect the latest piece to the main speakers" he orders and I cringe, fulfilling his bidding.

"Proceed" he adds and the track drifts slowly. I execute the routine and the final verse ends decisively. Loud guffaws ensue and Jongin is laughing wildly. Whereas Mr. Kim and Mr. Zhang seem as if they swallowed something foul.

“I believe that answers your question” Mr. Oh articulates persuasively and even I am drowning in shame.

“Baekhyun… that was phenomenally amateurish. For the most part you are synchronized with the beats and your flexibility is decent. I wouldn’t say there is anything dreadful but you lack balance and the knowledge of the angles that suit your body as well as the movements. I’m not going to lie. It is going to take lot of work to rectify” Mr. Zhang justifies patiently.

“We can’t promise you will be better here because our method of coaching is strenuous and meticulous. We do not slack off nor do we leave any stone unturned” Jongin comments humbly.

“I won’t deny you have the flair for this but I am afraid the full extent of your abilities cannot be demonstrated by yourself. I am prepared to teach you but the results will be determined by your commitment alone” Mr. Zhang completes and I realize the magnitude of the opportunity that is being handed to me on a silver platter.

“I am not sure I deserve it but please take care of me” I agree immediately, bowing low.

“Sehun would have never brought you to us if he didn’t think you were worth the effort” Mr. Kim smiles paternally.

It was true. Mr. Oh had purposefully or inadvertently given me an occasion to rise to and ensured I hadn’t squandered it. He made this happen for me when I had been needlessly blunt with him.

“Myeonnie I forgot to tell you I found us the perfect newbie to launch. I heard a demo yesterday and I have never been more excited about a composer and rapper. He is an all kill" Mr. Zhang gushes.

"Freak luv wasn't it? I am so hooked already" Jongin joins excitedly. The title is awfully familiar and I rack my brains. Isn't that Chanyeol's recording?

"Mr. Zhang I don't mean to interrupt but that was sent to you by a close friend of mine. He has been recording it for ages, to match your standards" I chime in happily.

"You know him? That's fantastic! I cannot wait to meet this guy." he continues and an idea springs. I excuse myself and dial his number.

"Yeol I'm texting you an address. Please come fast" I beam.

"No" he deadpans directly.

"This is important Yeol" I attempt.

"It will have to wait. I'm in no mood to go anywhere" he shuts me down.

"This is not a booty call for you to refuse stupid" I groan. Why was he such an idiot? I was trying to surprise him and he's acting like a jerk.

"Baek you know I never refuse an actual booty call" he snickers and I want to throw him in the gutter.

"Yeol I am serious" I snap.

"Fine. Ask cutely."

"Over your cold, frozen, dead, decomposing…" I start threatening elaborately.

“Bye baby Baek. The cabs are always available” he baits.

“What should I say?” I demand, clenching my teeth so hard that it hurts.

“Please pick me up Oppa” he reveals.

“Did you snort a load of coke?!” I growl, tempted to disconnect, but Mr. Zhang was practically his God, his religion. _I deserve a Nobel Prize for this_.

“Aegyo. Aegyo. Aegyo” he chants continuously.

“Please pick me up oppa” I give in, shuddering violently and the urge to puke overpowers me.

“There! Was it that difficult?” he celebrates.

“COME. NOW.” I scream.

“Mr. Byun you never fail to amuse” Mr. Oh comments leaning against the pillar and I stare at his phone in horror. Had he recorded the entire thing?

I must delete it.

I must destroy the evidence.

“Mr. Oh! That is a violation of my privacy” I exclaim feeling scandalized.

“A- Mr. Byun or you’re going to be an internet sensation” he taunts and somehow I don’t resent it. Must be the _gratitude_.

“That's unfair" I grumble.

"I give credit where it's due Mr. Byun not where it's anticipated" he replies and I know what he's referring to.

"Thank you for everything and I am sorry for accusing of being biased. That was wrong and pretty…dumb” I surrender.

“Don’t flatter yourself Mr. Byun. This is purely selfish. I’d prefer helping you than watching you perform” he ridicules and his insult doesn’t have the usual bite.

“I’m not that bad” I pout and his piercing gaze flickers to my lips staying there for a moment. Am I hallucinating?

“As the saying goes, whatever floats your boat Mr. Byun” he states smugly, reminding of when he gave me the title criado.

“Mr. Oh, what is a criado?” I enquire, clueless about the term.

“Spanish is a beautiful language Mr. Byun. It makes even the more severe phrases sound intriguing” he says pleased.

“I’m afraid I can’t relate” I murmur regretfully.

“Are you positive you want to break the spell?” he questions, humor glinting off him. I gulp nervously and nod my consent. The lengthy pause makes me think he probably wouldn't answer.

“ _Servant_ ” he pronounces over his shoulder as he saunters away and it dawns on me that Mr. Oh had called me his servant. _His fucking servant_.

Who would have thought instead of fuming I’d want to hear him say it again.


	7. Confusions and Coffee

Taeyong's POV

I have succeeded in avoiding Chanyeol Sunbae for a week and now I missed him terribly. It was without a doubt the most painful thing I had ever done and a huge, irrational part of me longed to see him so badly that I had begun to hallucinate about talking to him in the corridors and the crowded streets as if nothing had ever happened. I was barely keeping my emotions in check by reminding myself of the way our last meeting had ended.

How could I have let the situation become that outrageous and unthinkable?

How could I lose my control so quickly?

I had endured far worse temptations being around him and yet my restraint had snapped like a dried up twig in that moment.

For almost two years I had carefully hidden my feelings from him, forever hovering between the role of a naive dongsaeng and the hoobae who relied on him to the point of excessive. I had _never minded either_. They have both been my masks for being close to him and basking in the glow of his company that I, otherwise could never have, enjoyed.

But that was in the past.

Of all the friggin times in my life why did I have to get a boner then? I had not only made my intentions glaringly obvious but also disrespected Chanyeol Sunbae's brilliant art in the process.

To be honest I had never lacked for attention from men, if anything I always whined about attracting too much of it.

Once while I was having a meal in Mc. Donald’s, I had accidentally dropped sauce on my fingers and loath to the idea of wasting, I was doing a great job of licking it off. Little did I know that the stranger in the opposite booth misunderstood it as a sexual hint and reciprocated by ogling as though he'd jump me even if I blinked.

And then there was this other instance when I was wrestling a disobedient party streamer and this senior just had to help me because he couldn't watch me struggle. In truth I was hoping Chanyeol Sunbae would offer to help but it had garnered the courtesy of an unwanted person.

I could go on and on but the list would be pointlessly detailed. I was used to people hitting on me and didn’t pretend to be shocked anymore but instead, chose to reject their advances with an apology.

Why then did I act like a helpless and starved human around Chanyeol Sunbae?

Why did my heart race at his smiles, stomach clench at his touch and breath disappear at his words?

I hadn't planned to fall for him but when the rest of my classmates had decided that the _devil may care_ attitude bothered them to no extent and wished to decorate my body in numerous bruises, Chanyeol Sunbae had intervened like a lone defender without any care for his own safety.

He became my hero then.

_He didn't have to but he did._

In the beginning I was simply interested in showing how much I worshipped and respected him. I would have swallowed pins and needles if he had wanted me to; such was my blinding faith in him. I didn't recognize that somewhere along the lane my faithful devotion had transformed into this rush of affection, adoration and attachment.

I was _in love_ with Chanyeol Sunbae when he regarded me as that spoiled kid. Well that spoiled kid who gotten an erection because of him.

_Way to go Lee Taeyong way to go_.

Now I would never be able to stand beside him and I only had myself to blame. This was a scenario that I confronted in my wildest nightmares, but now it has become my reality.

Practically slumping in dejection against the wall in the passage I nonetheless plod ahead recalling that there was an instrumental composition lecture to attend. Thankfully the farthest bench in the classroom is occupied by Joosung and I half- heartedly react to the greetings extended while I march to it. The stormy winds, the grey sky and the chaotic drops of rain reflected my current mood accurately.

"Dude your eyes are bloodshot! Did you smoke weed without me?" Joosung grills impatiently. The crying session that had dragged on well into the middle of the night was finally revealing its effects.

"I don’t roll or do joints unless there’s a test or a funeral" I scoff at the idiotic pothead’s accusation.

My routine for the past few days had been going home completely exhausted and then sulking in the rooftop until I bawled like the child that had gotten lost in a supermarket. I cannot remember the last time I had a good night of sleep and some tone deaf imbecile who couldn't differentiate between the bass clef and treble clef was annihilating the piano, increasing my irritation.

"YAH Heejae, if you’re going to destroy the keys then sit your fucking ass down" I yell, losing my temper and pull the hoodie lower, hoping the huge thing would conceal my appearance.

"Bruh what crawled up your ass and died?" Joosung taunts stupidly.

"Your mother" I retort not even guilty about taking it there.

"That's not cool man" he grumbles sourly.

"Then stop getting on my nerves. You know I've been going through an absolutely shitty phase" I grouch.

"Two years is not a phase son. It’s your life" he mocks and I glare at him.

"Do you want to die?" I threaten him and an amused voice from the entrance remarks,

"Aren't you a lively bunch?"

My entire body freezes and boils simultaneously.

_Chanyeol Sunbae, Chanyeol Sunbae, Chanyeol Sunbae_ my subconscious chants deliriously.

I remain crouching; too shocked to lift my head from the desk and wonder if the constant moping had forced a higher power to magically summon him.

" _Sunbae_ " the whole class squeals in joy. Men and women alike swoon over themselves. They hoot and cheer for him, applauding the entry of their favorite senior. Some cling to his muscular arms and I fume in jealousy.

It was common knowledge in OAA that you flirted with the other guys just for the sake of flirting but you flirted with Chanyeol Sunbae for the sake of getting semi naked with him. He was so hot he should have worn a ‘ _warning flammable_ ’ symbol.

"I get it, I get it. You brats want a free period so you're kissing up to me" he laughs catching on to everyone’s ploy.

"Yes" they answer in unison.

"Pardon my French, but that's not fucking happening. We will be working with drums in this lesson, ladies and gentlemen. I expect your full participation" he declares, cheerfully crushing their expectations.

_Why God why?_ There were plenty of other, harmless instruments in this hall, like the percussion or the guitar or even the bloody pandeiro.

Observing the second exit of the room longingly, I calculate exactly how many paces it would take to reach there from my position.

Maybe 10? Or 15 if I crawled fast enough?

"No" they groan loudly. I slide down from my chair slowly and move diagonally on all four limbs. I had been reduced to the state of a dog due to Sunbae.

"Broo" Joosung hisses and I elbow his leg hard. I almost reach the door but when I try to slide it, a large hand blocks the movement.

"TY you wouldn’t be planning to bolt somewhere, would you?" Chanyeol Sunbae questions, bending close enough to bump our noses and I crash to the floor with a loud thud while his devious smile widens.

_For fuck's sake_ wasn't there anything I could do properly around him?

"N-no-nno" I splutter cursing my slow reflexes and turn beet red in embarrassment.

"That’s good news. Since you’re staying you can select any composition and queue me in" he announces tugging me by the wrist till the empty seat in the front row and I fight against his unrelenting grip.

"Sunbae I can't" I complain but he outright ignores my plea and pushes me into the bench.

My skin blazes fiercely from where he had held me and I rub it unconsciously. Keeping my gaze firmly trained on the ground I refuse to look at him while he tests the condition of the set and taps a random tune.

"Taeyong you can start" Chanyeol Sunbae urges and I frown at the piece of paper lying on the stand. When it doesn't seem like he's going to give in anytime soon, I reluctantly make modifications to the sheet music and place it in the elevated rack.

"This resembles Led Zeppelin’s Moby Dick an awful lot. You must hate me quite a bit" He chuckles acknowledging the underhanded trick.

If I was going to struggle to keep my sanity for the next two hours I might as well have my share of the entertainment and let him fumble.

It was the same song that bewitched the crowd in the auditorium when Sunbae had performed flawlessly at the freshman's orientation. A thousand watts bulbs would have paled in comparison to Sunbae while he wrecked the 10 minutes intense piece and I was beyond mesmerized by the sheer joy that radiated from him.

"Taeyong, why are you burdening Sunbae with your stupid requests? He is doing us a huge favor by being here so we should be learning gratefully instead of misusing his kindness" In Ha, my sole nemesis, disciplines and I suppress the urge to growl back at her like some savage animal.

This girl, more appropriately a witch, was always finding ways to cause a rift between Sunbae and me. I don't know how or when she had discovered my real feelings for him but she had made damn sure to interfere whenever there was the slightest chance that we would be alone or within five feet of each other.

"In Ha it’s fine. Been a while though, so be prepared to cover your ears" he grins brushing off her concern and I snort.

"But Sunbae..." she whines and I picture her phony face splattered against the concrete. _Not so pretty_.

"No one asked for your opinion In Ha" Joosung snickers and that prompts a cheeky giggle from me.

Sunbae scrutinizes the page thoroughly and I can tell for a fact that he's memorizing every snare and cymbal. He preferred performing from memory rather than the pointers that everyone else used. Which is why, he is the unparalleled king of instruments in OAA and Baekhyun hyung was probably the only competition who could give him a run for his money.

The initial beats have me reeling in shock and I realize there isn’t a single difference.

Well there is a difference: the first time I was a little less absorbed and a lot more amazed. But besides that _nothing else_ , it was just as mind-blowing.

Is there anything he couldn't do?

This perfection made my defense weaker.

"If anyone requires medical assistance please visit the infirmary" he expresses sheepishly and I want to cool myself in a sea of ice.

However, there is an outpouring of compliments and he reddens under the praise. _Dear Lord_ how can he be this cute?

"Alright since you were all nice to me today I'll give you a sneak peek for the new song that I've been writing and creating for years" he beams and I am sweating profusely.

It can't be what I’m dreading can it?

I mean he still hadn't gotten the approval to release the project so shouldn't it be kept a secret?

What with it being confidential and all that official shit.

_Oh who am I kidding?!_

This is Chanyeol Sunbae we were talking about; he would release his entire record for free if it meant that everyone could listen to it.

Well this was _not_ happening. If my reaction last time had been that drastic I couldn't imagine what it would be like now.

I begin to slink away from the disaster rapidly approaching me but Sunbae's lean legs are obstructing my path and it’s obvious that he is doing it on purpose. Before I can gather the courage to protest, he is crooning the first verse and I shake so violently that I’m left no choice but to drop onto the chair.

I try to shut out the sound desperately but it's too late and my body is already reacting to his voice. Nothing sneaks past Sunbae’s shrewd gaze as he observes my actions and it makes me skirmish.

It’s like someone has poured kerosene on my spark of surprise and sent every neuron in my brain firing in both directions at once. It was the best and the worst kind of panic. The devil works hard but Chanyeol Sunbae worked harder.

_Do not get a boner Taeyong don’t you even dare._

Think of grandma in a bikini or grandpa in a bikini or dad in a bikini and all the germs that are probably crawling up your shoes. My germophobia nearly gives me a concussion at the latter.

Thankfully, he stops after the chorus and I feel a sense of rationality returning. The rest of the period is a blur until I feel calloused fingers prying my fist open and soothing the crescent shaped welts that had formed from clutching firmly. I hadn’t noticed the painful sting.

The strokes are gentle, tender and I realize that this touch was more familiar than my own. Wincing at the jolt of recognition that shoots through me and I swiftly disentangle my palm from his grasp only to have it pulled back.

“Stay still” he reprimands and rummages in his pockets. Retrieving a rectangular shaped band aid Sunbae removes the coverings neatly and places it on the wound, securing it warily. His face is a mask of agony and I wonder which one of us had gotten hurt. He was always generous and sympathetic to people’s pain or their faults.

“Thank you Sunbae, I’ll be leaving early” I announce jumpily and hurry ahead. Suddenly the ground beneath me slips forward and gravity welcomes me backwards while I’m spun around. A muffled scream escapes my mouth and I hang onto Sunbae’s wide shoulders as he clasps me by the hood.

“What are you doing Sunbae?” I mumble and attempt to flee.

“We have to talk” he asserts steadily and I despise those words. In my opinion any sentences that started that way never ended pleasantly.

“About what Sunbae?” I test nervously.

“Why have you been avoiding me?” he interrogates point blank.

“Av-avo-avoiding you? That is crazy and impossible Sunbae. You’re mistaken, I've been busy with assignments and AP classes” I answer evasively.

“Are you sure? Then did I dream of you throwing a can of banana milk and scampering in the opposite direction as if you’d met a ghost when I was clearly waving at you?” he challenged confidently. _Shit_ I didn’t consider the minor detail that he might have seen me. So much for trusting my Ninja skills.

“NO!” I exclaim and clear my throat to reduce the suspicion “That wasn’t me Sunbae.”

“I have my tricks Tae-ah but I'm not a wizard. I cannot make a person appear out of thin air unless they were already there” he sighs and I feel cornered for being understood by him so easily. My instincts are screaming at me to run and I am overwhelmed by it.

“Sunbae can I please go? I don’t want to be late for the next lecture” I dodge the subject altogether.

“I think you owe me an explanation at the least” he prods unyielding and I am hopelessly flustered. Where was this curiosity coming from? He was never the pushy type of person and preferred keeping his nose strictly in his business.

“Sunbae there is nothing to explain” I mutter shoulders sagging in remorse.

“That wasn’t nothing Taeyong. You had a-” he pauses his statement midway and I cannot breathe. Shame clouds my conscience and I can barely respond to his confusion.

“I am truly very sorry for that Sunbae…it was never my intention” I whisper head hung low and I couldn’t imagine how uncomfortable Sunbae must be.

“I don’t need your apology Taeyong, what happened to you isn’t unusual. Anyone could experience that and I’d be the biggest asshole if I blamed you for something I’m used to dealing with” he states as if trying to clarify the matter.

“Used to?” I echo his phrase.

“I know it sounds conceited but this isn’t a new concept for me and you’re certainly not the first. I wish you would let me help instead of sidestepping the problem” he continues obliviously and my vision dulls.

“What would you have me do Sunbae?” I humor his advice and my chest burns in anguish. Was this disappointment?

From _me_?

_Towards_ Sunbae?

“What made you…I mean why did you react like that?” he seeks, unaffected.

“Sunbae already knows so why are you doing this?” I retort, aggravation paving the trail for resentment.

“I honestly don’t. I tried to but I can’t. _Please_ clue me in” he concludes quite simply and I loathe how coolly he is handling this. Why was I beating myself up over this when it was so straight cut for him?

“Stupid Sunbae! It is easy for you to ignore and assume everything is exactly what you see while I am worrying myself to death over it” I shout, craving to unleash the bottled up frustration.

“Taeyong what’s wrong? Please make me understand. You can’t do things in the spur of the moment and expect me to treat you normally” he appeals for reason.

“Sunbae if you haven’t understood by now then there is no point in justifying, consider your ignorance as bliss and stop concerning yourself with me. I can deal with this on my own” I convey and draw back from his grip. I stagger to the door, snubbing his attempts to resolve this godforsaken conversation and he calls my name repeatedly.

“Taeyong you’re confusing me” he finally roars, behind me.

“GREAT!” I yell and dial a certain number that had become my savior. Granted, he was a savior with drastic methods but the end definitely justified the means here.

“Hello handsome, are you ready to go on a date with Mr. Fabulous yet?” greets the voice on the other end of the line.

“Hello Ten. I can meet you this Saturday” I agree to his offer. There was no particular argument for accepting but a distraction was necessary and I couldn’t think of anyone better than him.

“Seriously? After rejecting me twice what changed?” he queries curiously.

“Not much. I am doing it because I want to” I stubbornly emphasize.

“That is a noble cause Mr. Lee, see you on Saturday” he proclaims happily.

“Yes. See you later."

 

Baekhyun's POV

 

It is 9:00 am on a Monday morning and I'm hunched over the pantry counter contemplating, where my life had gone so horrendously off course that I was tasked with brewing a fresh, steaming pitcher of Café Americano for the modern day Lucifer.

The usually vacant break room has a guest reading the daily newspaper and I don't bother exchanging pleasantries. Trying to fill Mr. Oh's ‘chosen’ mug of the week with coffee as per his specifications I find myself baffled and offended. I didn't know where to begin; the man's tastes were not only luxurious but also fleeting and expendable.

He sets his favorite cup for each week and creates a gigantic, rage storm when he's not served in them. I was forced to learn this when I had tended to his caffeine request in the red, printed dish I had spotted on his table, during the times he summoned me to his cubicle for delivering a detailed report of my _inferior skills_.

He had labeled my blunder the definition of crude and demanded an essay full of regret or remorse.

I hadn’t quite figured out which, yet.

I have grown accustomed to his preferences but not to his unreasonable demands or his temperamental behavior. He was working me to the bone everyday as his Assistant or rather an errand boy and I was awfully close to snapping.

I assumed after our trip to Mr. Zhang’s Company, things would have improved slightly but he was still the _same_ mean machine who fancied being brutally honest.

In spite of everything, he had the better card up his sleeve and snatched any opportunity to eagerly remind me of that.

The appliance releases an odd beep and I switch it off in alarm. It is so complex that I only understood how to operate the basic combinations.

A red light blinks suspiciously and I squash every single button in the hopes of discovering the correct one but it only makes the sign extra noisy.

"May I help you?" enquires a concerned voice. I am about to decline but the thought of Mr. Oh’s hissy fit and my obvious lack of knowledge in this area halts me in the middle.

"Something went wrong and I am the biggest doofus when it comes to electronic gadgets" I confess mortified to an inexplicable extent and the towering gentleman inspects it efficiently.

"You forgot to add the beans in the container" he notes in amusement and I am beyond horrified at my level of intelligence. I had been so busy sulking that I hadn't even completed the important step.

"Silly me! I must be half asleep" I admit uneasily.

"I wouldn't blame you it's rather early to be a human" he provides and I giggle good-naturedly.

"Thanks" I express tipping my head lightly.

"You are welcome Mr...?" He trails off.

"Baekhyun. Byun Baekhyun" I introduce myself.

"Jung Yunho, the Vice President of Operations" he returns the gesture with a handshake and I accept it courteously. Another wolf in the elite pack.

"The Director will be expecting me" I claim in an attempt to excuse myself when the contact lingers longer than is obligatory.

"You are the Director's Secretary? How is it that the COO has not been notified of the cute newbie’s appointment?" He criticizes disagreeably and I am uncomfortable in his escalating interest. What is with this dude? Did he not have a brain to mouth filter?

"It was nice meeting you Mr. Jung" I evade the enquiry entirely and retract my grasp.

"The pleasure is all mine" he pronounces and something about that is sleazy in capital letters. He strolls back to the table and I lock down to boiling the beverage for a second time, realizing I had taken a lengthy break.

Mr. Oh would probably arrange for the goons to fetch me and Rafael or John were the last people I wanted to encounter. Those _judgmental bastards_.

I finish quickly and add two cubes of sugar, swirling it until the lumps have dissolved. I dash towards the exit and catch Mr. Jung blatantly staring at me.

"This won't come as a surprise but Sehun is no fun and I am sure he has already bored you plenty. Why don't you drop by my office for a while?" He suggests and goose bumps cover my arms. His offer and his tone were both _extremely unpleasant._

"Not at all, Mr. Oh is funnier than the SpongeBob and grumpy cat memes combined" I vouch for him and the fakeness reflecting off the statement is very self-explanatory.

If threats and murderous aura were considered funny, Mr. Oh would be the _funniest_ man in the whole universe according to me.

"I see you are polite as well and now I have to insist" he flashes another toothy grin and I bite the urge to be rude.

"I couldn't possibly impose Mr. Jung" I retort, immediately refusing the invitation.

"Nonsense, I would be delighted to continue this discussion" he says. And I would not.

Either this guy is dumb as a bat or one among those pushy creeps that I had read stories of. In that case it was best to cut this short, here itself.

"Mr. Jung you are too kind" I mention and grab the cup in a hurry to vanish.

"I guess your face isn't the only adorable feature..." he speaks from the seat he had abandoned and I nearly drop the tray in my astonishment.

Maybe I would have to sell my organs to buy him a mug that resembled this.

"Excuse me!" I splutter, riled.

"If you don’t mind me saying, your butt is cute and sexy" he repeats casually and I dart outside without another word.

_Holy mother of fuck what the hell was that?_

Just how many fucking _weirdos_ were in this hell hole?

And why did I have to talk to _all of them_?

I pat my butt unconsciously as if consoling it and scurry into Mr. Oh's cabin.

"I was beginning to conclude you might have ventured into Tanzania to prepare my coffee Mr. Byun" he strikes curtly and I place the source of my morning chaos in front of him instantly realizing that it did not belong to him. _Sweet Baby Jesus_.

"Mr. Oh please wait a second" I pipe in before he can slaughter me like a live pig for being this careless.

Mr. Oh was dangerous as the shark in the ocean, if he smelled blood meaning my _stupidity_ , he'd attack viciously.

"Mr. Byun did you perhaps spend 30 minutes that you could have used for organizing the presentation on a beverage that is _not mine_?" he observes, a prominent nerve twitching in his forehead and suddenly the door swings open.

_Ha! Not today Devil, I rejoice quietly._

"Baekhyun-ssi you are far too clumsy. You seem to have exchanged my coffee with Sehun's" he snickers and I almost jump out of my skin.

_Whose fault do you think that was?_ I scream internally.

"I'm sorry Mr. Jung, my foolishness has no limits apparently" I mutter guardedly and ponder whether this goof up got me blacklisted in Mr. Oh's book.

He seems like someone who makes a lot of enemies and I wouldn't be surprised if he actually maintained a record of them. It was prudent seeing as many could potentially stab this _hunky, psychopathic, man-child_ to death.

"I don’t mind at all. Any pretext to see you is welcome" he laughs and I intently watch the swirly patterns on the floor, completely missing the scathing glare Mr. Oh had rewarded him with.

"Searching for soul mates Mr. Byun? I guess I have nothing to fear about your supposedly inactive social life" he observes calmly and I shiver. He was too composed and that could only spell doom.

"Sehun can we switch our Secretaries? I feel Baekhyun and I have a great professional and personal chemistry" Mr. Jung proposes gleefully and replaces their respective drinks.

_Sweet mother of Jesus_ , this fellow is bat shit crazy.

“You learned of his existence less than an hour ago. What chemistry can you have established in that short span?” Mr. Oh scorns.

“Heaps” he affirms and I scoff at his delusion.

"Yunho shouldn't you be receiving the delegates for the Gala from the Airport? Their flight is listed to land soon" He interjects coldly. The tension in the room is so unbelievably thick you could slice it using a knife and feed every homeless person on earth.

A silent staring contest ensues and neither of them shows any intention of giving in. This was worse than those wrestling matches on ESPN, the theatrics were _exaggerated_.

"I was but then I got distracted by this pretty little thing here. Tell me how you always get the beautiful and handsome employees while my team looks like they've got a foot in the grave" He complains ending their battle and gawking audaciously. I strain to conceal myself and crash into the cabinet containing Mr. Oh's prized possessions. I must be eager to sign and seal my own death sentence.

"How many times will I have to tell you that I hate meeting you before noon? It is absolutely annoying and ruins my entire day" Mr. Oh scolds harshly.

"I haven't broken that rule in 3 years but this is an exception" Mr. Jung argues his side.

"I have an hectic schedule to follow and would appreciate you leaving us alone. And Yunho kindly do the job you're paid for or anticipate a pay cut" Mr. Oh snaps patience gone for a toss.

"Aw come on Sehunnie! Let me have him for a day at the least. I'll send Aunt Priscilla over to you. She's remarkably efficient at filing" he replies unaffected by the jab.

"I know my input is not required but may I just jog your memory of the fact that I am not an object in the pawn shop that you can trade as you please" I interrupt them determined to protect my interests and the scowl Mr. Oh gives freezes the blood in my veins.

"Of course not Baekhyun. You are gorgeous, dazzling and cute" Mr. Jung compliments.

"That was _not_ my point Mr. Jung but thank you" I accept it awkwardly.

You have ten seconds or your shares are as good as gone and you'll be working in the photocopy section" Mr. Oh threatens and that finally seems to have an effect.

"Sehunnie you know Hyung loves snatching your favorite toys right? Don’t be so obvious by trying to hide them. I’ve found all your secret corners" Mr. Jung provokes and the pen Mr. Oh is holding is bending out of shape. This guy was really ticking him off and I couldn’t fathom why.

Mr. Oh was unbothered to the extent where people thought him to be emotionless and ruthless. Which were both true and also the reason why he was that impeccable.

"I don't like to repeat myself" he emphasizes sharply, disregarding the taunt.

"Okay the message is crystal clear and duly noted. However, I’ll drop by often and hope to catch you around sweetheart" he smirks and before I understand what is happening, his palm is firmly attached to my behind.

Releasing an involuntary gasp I stumble forwards chaotically and fumble to utter a sentence that explains how outraged I am but he disappears with a wink.

_This fucking pervert._

Who the hell did he think he was? I ought to put his fingers through a damn _shredder_ for violating my pure, precious, perky, butt with his filthy paws.

Dumbfounded by the atrocity I fail to notice that Mr. Oh's pen has finally snapped and there is blue ink rapidly pooling across his documents. After flashing it an angry glower he tosses the broken pieces into the bin, alerting me to the clutter.

"Mr. Byun does your talent particularly lie in creating a scene?" he accuses menacingly and I am confused. What had I done _now_?

"I wasn't aware he was trailing me Mr. Oh" I blurt bewildered at the fury being focused on me

"He followed you because you were lousy enough to cause a mess" he flares, irritated.

"I didn't do it because I wanted to Mr. Oh, he scared me" I practically whine.

Was I _ever_ going to get the benefit of the doubt from him?

"Mr. Byun your excuses are pathetic and make me question whether my generosity has been wasted" he implies, crowding me against the wall and I detect the spreading stain on his shirt. He was livid as a fire blowing dragon and not ready to hear anything I had to offer.

"Mr. Oh your cuffs are ruined, let me clean them for you" I steer the topic evasively and grab tissues to scrub it but he glares at me like that was my fault too.

_I_ am the fucking victim here so why was _I_ suffering the third degree treatment?

"Perhaps you thought this was Tinder Mr. Byun but my company has a strict to severe, non-fraternization policy. I do not tolerate nor appreciate inappropriate relationships between Co-workers" he articulates sternly.

"I apologize if it gave you that impression Mr. Oh, but it wasn't like that" I assert defensively.

"Please save your breath Mr. Byun. I am not interested in what you choose to do in your personal life but inside this building you abide by my rules. If that's going to be an issue for you then the exit and your expulsion certificate can always be arranged" he warns indifferently and I am at a loss for words.

Not only had I been manhandled by some stranger but also gotten scolded for being disturbed when I played no part in it. I mean what's next? Blame me for the murder I didn't commit or better yet call me Kylie Jenner's baby daddy when we all know it was the hot bodyguard!

“Mr. Oh you are jumping to conclusions” I counter unhappily.

“Need I remind you why you are working for me Mr. Byun?” he intimidates.

“No sir” I surrender grimly. “Fulfill your contract and earn your freedom” he finalizes.

"I will be careful in the future Mr. Oh" I answer grouchy as all heck.

"Pack your bags Mr. Byun" he states picking his coat off the hanger.

"Mr. Oh I already promised not to repeat the mistake" I reply grumpily.

"It was not a metaphor for leaving Mr. Byun, I literally expect you to do that" he sighs exasperated.

"But why Mr. Oh?" I exclaim.

"I have a meeting in the Hong Kong branch tomorrow and you are accompanying me" he deadpans.

"Rafael did not inform me of that and I reserved appointments in Seoul" I mutter, terrified.

"Cancel them" he states evenly and I gape. They were the big clients and flagged as VIP in the briefings.

"How long will we be gone for Mr. Oh?" I ask racking my brains for stories to convince my parents.

This would not end well.

"Hard to say" he responds monotonously.

"I'm not sure the flight tickets will be available on such short notice Mr. Oh" I highlight the obstacle, praying he would change his mind.

"We're taking the jet" he solves the crisis, smoothly.

“I have prior plans Mr. Oh” I request.

“Mr. Byun, look at me” he orders and I heed his demand.

“Which part of me seems like I care?” he urges and I am momentarily blinded by his stunning features.

“None” I mumble dazed and he walks away to the conference hall.

What kind of nightmare is this? I'd have to travel thousands of miles with Lord Sehun and cater to his privileged attitude all the while reciting to myself how being locked in a prison was worse than having to endure his _I’m sage and you’re lame_ demeanor.


	8. The Hotel

"Mother" I shout, seeking her out in the empty garden and stroll into the area where the cabinets were. I pull a cookie from the glass jar and search for the petite figure that would no doubt be hunched over vessels whilst eagerly making dishes that I could never pronounce but could somehow drool for.

"In here" she motions from the kitchen and I follow the signal. "Are we celebrating Thanksgiving twice this year?" I squeal when I find her surrounded by huge pots, containing an assortment of vegetables.

"No honey, I am making Kimchi from grandma’s traditional recipe and she is very adamant that I prepare it for us" she chuckles and slides her small hands inside the pink gloves that were stained red due to the chili powder.

"Mum, I think you're going to be lectured either way, Nana's Kimchi recipes are no joke. Better throw in that towel when you still have the chance Mrs. Byun" I tease habitually and she pinches the edges of my cheeks in warning.

"AH AH, that hurts Mom" I wail loudly and she releases her grip instantly with a soothing stroke. I had been exaggerating of course but Byun Baekhyun was nothing if not Oscar worthy.

"You're back from college early sweetheart" she remarks and casually ignores my painful groans.

"I come bearing news, oh dear mother" I begin, faking a natural cheer.

Honestly, I hadn't been to the college in two, long weeks and it was becoming extremely hard to hide the fact from my parents and Chanyeol, both. I was the first person to leave the house in the morning, just to avoid running into them while I went to fulfill my obligations as a Secretary in the Oh Enterprises.

My family was under the impression that I was attending extra classes whereas Chanyeol thought my schedule had been changed fully. It felt like I was leading a double life and the lies were complicating it.

"Go on, darling it's been a while since we had a chance to chat properly or gossip as your father would say. Quite frankly, your dad and I were starting to feel that we were living alone in this big place" she speaks wistfully and continues to mix the ingredients.

"Mum, please sit down and listen. I can handle this part easily" I urge pushing her onto the island chair and relieve her of the difficult task.

"Pumpkin, your mom is not old enough to need your help in preparing Kimchi" she scolds reluctantly and I pout until she fixes the violently fluorescent gloves along my half fists.

"Of course not mum but I’m almost never around so let me do this for you. Think of me as your assistant" I grin at her reassuringly.

"Shall I heat up some warm milk?" she humors me and straightens the unruly fringe covering my eyes.

"Yes please and could you put lots of tiny, pieces of strawberry in it?" I request quickly. My daily diet consisted of 12 cups of strawberry yogurt, 3 cartons of strawberry milk and I made no exceptions on that account.

A man has to eat healthy to live a long life.

I'm sure many would disagree and call my reason a bullshit excuse for devouring half the strawberries produced in this world but those haters had yet to savor the real taste of paradise. Bunch of cynical, chicken shits.

"Honey I remember. Now tell me what is it that you wanted to talk about. I'll have you know that if you and Kyungsoo are still determined on adopting the entire Penguin enclosure from the zoo I will be declining straightaway" she finalizes and boops my nose playfully.

"I cannot believe how heartless you can be mother. Those penguins needed me and Kyungsoo. They had the potential of amazing vocalists and could have been the pioneers of tap dancing" I retort, slightly offended that she would refuse to succumb to a tantrum that had nearly gotten us arrested for public disturbance.

"Darling they are not Mumble from Happy Feet. They don't dance or sing" she maintains, her patience never dimming.

"How would you understand that when you didn’t give them a chance mom?" I sulk childishly.

"Byunnie you swore that you would grow out of that phase" she reminds pointedly, flinging the words that I had once regretfully uttered.

"Fine" I agree grudgingly.

"Shall we return to the topic?" she brings our lost train of thought around.

"Yes. Right. I have to attend a competition in Hong Kong tomorrow and the Principal has specifically demanded that I participate" I lie through my teeth, nervously.

There wasn't a chance in hell where she would allow me to step outside if she knew about my contract with Mr. Oh or what it required of me to do.

"Honey don’t you have to manage quite a bit with your AP classes already? It doesn't seem like a practical idea" she reasons worriedly.

"I tried to decline, believe me, but it was impossible. Besides it's for 2 or 3 days at the most Mom and I'll be back before you miss me" I persuade her insistently.

"Well if the Dean has requested I suppose you will have to attend" she sighs, not completely convinced. 

I knew she hated having me away from home but my situation didn't give me much of a choice. I was walking a pretty thin line between a flaming pit of volcano and Oh Sehun. Neither of the option was appealing or valuable for my peace and safety.

"Minseok and you are so wrapped in your world, you're forgetting that you have two old parents who would enjoy spending some time with you" she complains and a dejected frown unfurls across her face.

"I am incredibly sorry mom and I promise to not go anywhere this weekend. I'm all yours" I swear, seriously determined.

"It's okay honey. Nothing makes us happier than seeing you both achieve all your dreams and aspirations" she coos, planting a kiss in the middle of my brows.

"I love you mom and I am really sorry for being such a shitty son in the past week" I apologize as the guilt eats me alive.

"Language, Byun Baekhyun! And I love you too" she repeats affectionately.

The rest of the afternoon passes in unstoppable chatter and echoes of blissful laughter. A sense of calm settles within me and I am more composed than when I had begun this conversation, burdened by my dilemma. But that had vanished and left me light as a feather.

"Hey kiddo! Are you bunking college again?" Minseok Hyung greets me, reaching the kitchen counter and panic bubbles in the tightest corners of my chest.

Shit was he aware that I haven't been going to college?

"W-whh-what do you mean Hyung?" I stutter, anxiously.

"You and Chanyeol do that often and raid our pantry in the restaurant" he accuses pointedly and my erratic breathing returns to a normal rate. I had narrowly escaped suspicion and being grounded for the rest of eternity.

"He has to board a flight soon" my mom reacts instead of me.

"A flight? Where are you travelling to?" Hyung ponders curiously.

"I have to perform at a music competition in Hong Kong tomorrow" I explain briefly avoiding a lengthy discussion. Minseok Hyung knew how to play the bad cop and make you reveal your deepest, darkest secrets in sheer seconds.

"Tomorrow? Have you booked the tickets yet and what about the Visa?" Hyung enquires, surprised by the short notice I had provided.

"The college is handling that matter. I just have to be in the airport in the next two hours" I clarify, remembering the curt text I had received from Rafael,

"The hangar. At 21:00 sharp. Do not be late"

His first ever warning had rung clear through it.

"Alright. Then tell me when you’re done and I'll drop you to the airport" he offers, quickly ascending the stairs to the private wing of our house.

"Mom, I'll call you when I land there and please inform dad for me won't you? I still have to pack and I won't make it there on time if I went to the showroom now" I plead hastily.

"Of course darling. You be safe and don't get into any kind of trouble" she advises firmly, concern etched in her voice and I nod reassuringly. If only she heard of all the trouble I was already in she'd ship me to the North Pole! No questions necessary.

It took me a good hour to cram my clothes, toiletries, shoes and headphones inside the tiny, silver suitcase. When I am finished Minseok Hyung drove me to Gimpo International in record time as I was cutting it dangerously close to 9 p.m.

There was no predicting how Mr. Oh would sting if I didn't stick to his strict punctuality rule. Maybe he would abandon and order me to travel in another flight; at this point there wasn't much I put past him. If I had to decide on a scale of one to ten the extent of demonic and ungodly things Mr. Oh was capable of doing I would score him a stark 9.5. That point five being knocked off only for the sole moment of generosity he had shown me.

The airport is packed to the brim with people and I belatedly wonder where exactly this so called hangar was. I had neither received directions nor a particular location because the message Rafael had sent was frugal and lacking in details. I was hopelessly lost in a sea of passengers rushing to deposit their baggage and separate their carry-on’s.

"Byunnie I can’t spot any of your coaches, are you sure the competition is tomorrow?" Hyung doubts and uncertainly scans the building.

"Crap! I totally forgot that they wanted me to come at 10p.m. Good lord where is my brain?" I giggle tensely.

"Byunnie, you have to pay more attention when people are speaking to you" hyung scolds, assuming a serious manner.

"Yes yes I will. You can leave ahead Hyung and I will wait for them. It’s not a problem" I attempt to convince him.

"No, it's fine. I came all the way with you might as well wait for them" he asserts stubbornly.

This wouldn't do.

I was running late and had to find the god forsaken flight.

"But you told me the new shipment for the restaurant will be delivered today. Ten is alone and I'm not sure he can collect the provisions by himself" I poke and prod at his weakness- the obsession to have things arranged meticulously and accurately.

"Why did I hire that idiot?" Hyung groans and it is obvious that I have won the battle. The restaurant was his brain child and there was nothing he loathed more than chaos or disorder in it.

"Don't worry. I'll contact you as soon as I reach there" I ease his discomfort.

"Okay. Ring me even if your plans are cancelled I'll take you home. All the best Byunnie" he rushes through the sentence and hugs me distractedly me. I bet his mind was busily imagining a thousand different scenarios where all hell breaks loose.

"Where is the damn hangar?" I muse aloud and aimlessly glance around.

"Excuse me Sir, are you Mr. Oh's secretary?" a tall, lanky guy interrupts my scrutiny and I am curious whether 'Mr. Oh's Secretary' is my official title, it certainly was a drop from Best Vocalist.

"Yes I am and you are?" I inquire politely.

"I am Mr. Oh’s driver" he introduces himself from beside me.

"Ah, correct. Min Jun, hello" I address, recalling him from when he threw the keys to the beast of a Ferrari.

"Is this your first time travelling with Mr. Oh?" he speculates, clearly noticing my cluelessness.

"Indeed. I was informed to meet him at the airstrip but I'm relatively lost to be honest" I admit sheepishly.

"It happens with all the newbies because the hangar is situated a bit further than the others. You must be aware that Mr. Oh values his privacy above everything else" he justifies.

"Absolutely" I affirm dryly. I was sadly well versed with Mr. Oh's fondness for security and solitude.

In the two weeks of being employed by Oh Enterprises, I was sent to every floor in such a frequent manner they had to change my access pass thrice and it was finally settled that I would have access to all 66 floors.

What I discovered only recently though is that there are five underground levels that even my shadow hadn't crossed. Supposedly there was a sub-basement made of four feet thick walls and shut away by a steel door that could be opened exclusively by Mr. Oh. What he is hiding in that miniature Swiss Bank is a mystery I had yet to solve.

"Sir, please follow me" he guides carrying my luggage whilst holding another heavy suitcase. A Louis Vuitton, at that. No points for guessing who it belonged to since the initials OSH was elegantly embroidered in black.

"Please call me Baekhyun and allow me to carry my bag" I protest instantly.

"Not at all, it is my duty" he obliges and sentimental tears dull my sight.

Is this an angel in disguise?

So far, he was the nicest person I had encountered while working for Mr. Oh.

"Thank you" I express my gratitude and he strides forward.

We weave through the crowd effortlessly and reach an enormous open, space filled with various models of planes, jets and helicopters. Unexpectedly, the excitement increases in leaps and bounds, at the prospect of travelling in one of them.

"That belongs to Mr. Oh" he discloses, placing my suitcase inside the biggest plane in the lane and I scoff. As if the 15 others, parked here weren't his sole property.

It is humongous and has the appearance of an English Princess, extravagant and haughty. The Company logo is plainly painted on the sides and it is hard to miss.

"It would be best if you chose to sit in the front as Mr. Oh prefers to remain in the back" he enlightens me and I nod my head appreciatively.

"Is Mr. Oh here already?" I ask, searching for him.

"Mr. Oh will be arriving shortly. He is attending to an urgent matter with the authorities" he communicates, seemingly uneasy and my curiosity spikes.

Which authorities could he be referring to?

Had something happened at the Company while I was not there or could it be...the police?

"Thank you for helping me, Min Jun. I owe you a favor for this. I want to be in Mr. Oh’s good graces, at least for the duration of this trip" I admit embarrassed.

"Have a safe flight sir" he wishes bowing low and retracing his steps towards the exit.

I retrieve my headphones and sleep mask from the little bag I was using. Setting the Playlist on shuffle I listen to the sea waves crashing against the rocks and try to calm my ragged nerves. I suffered from a minor phobia of heights and tended to over think the consequences of climbing high buildings, flying in airplanes and riding roller coasters.

It wasn't an easy task but somehow I had lulled my body into a relaxed state and was bordering on the edge of drowsiness. Maybe I could just rest for a while and stay out of Mr. Oh's laser vision. I mean the man couldn't nag about me fucking things up when I wasn't doing anything per se.

"It must be nice to live such a carefree life Mr. Byun" I hear the foreboding tone and promptly my castle in the sky crumbles. I stand straight and discard the blanket covering my legs.

My luck must have run its course after the dangers I had swerved today.

"Good evening Mr. Oh" I welcome him and ignore the snarky jibe from earlier.

"Inform the attendant that I want a glass of the MacCallan 1926 served" he barks sharply and his foul mood is apparent.

The words _shove it where the sun don’t_ shine are on the tip of my tongue but I swallow them. The universe would be in harmony if we let our inner divas have their share of fun.

"Mr. Oh would wish to have a glass of the Macallan 1926" I report, the rude demand to the blonde haired, female attendant towering several inches above me. She stands readily holding a tray with the whiskey tumbler and I am baffled. Flashing a pristine smile she takes measured strides to where Mr. Oh is reading the documents from a thick folder and positions the drink in the holder carefully.

"Anything else Mr. Oh?" she practically purrs and I understand the purpose behind her foxy demeanor as she assesses him hungrily.

She is the definition of coy as she tends to him more warmly than was required and I am agitated to find my fingernails digging into the leather of the headrest. This beautiful, poised, curvaceous woman with her bountiful cleavage was triggering an intense dislike in me and leaving behind a bitter taste.

"Nothing at the moment Norma. Can you give me the ETA?" he queries, returning her watchful stare.

"The weather is clear and we are not experiencing any turbulence Mr. Oh, we will be proceeding according to the schedule and landing at 11:40 pm in Hong Kong time" she recites the information given to her by the pilot in command.

"Excellent. Is Chef Yoshihiro accompanying us?" he poses another question, indifferently.

"Yes sir, a traditional six course Japanese meal has been prepare and is ready to be se-"

"You brat I had to close my restaurant early and chase off a regular customer because of your unreasonable cravings" is the gruff reply interrupting her narration. An old man of medium stature holds a ladle unsteadily and points it at Mr. Oh for every syllable, sloshing the little morsels of the batter he had scooped with it. I instinctively recoil and check my white shirt for the outcome of his handiwork.

"Uncle I cannot eat the food cooked by anyone else" Mr. Oh laughs, a rarity among rarities. I am temporarily stunned by its appearance and don't perceive the statement aimed at me.

A piercing "Mr. Byun" complements the snippy fingers clicking rhythmically and I drag myself from the trance his enjoyment had cast.

"Pardon me?" I interject hesitantly and he simply indicates towards the portfolio he was studying previously. I hurriedly abandon my position by the confused Attendant and occupy the seat housing the case. It contains three, individual files with the phrase Confidential marked horizontally in black, bold letters.

"Those are the documents that we will need for the conference tomorrow. Analyze them thoroughly and remember every single line that has been highlighted. It can be mentioned during the slideshow and you will be required to change them appropriately" he instructs lazily.

_"Right now_?" I consider incredulously. My nausea would render me unconscious if I read or wrote something in this state.

"No Mr. Byun we shall put it forward until it is convenient for you" he grates out with enough sarcasm to sour an entire ocean of salt water.

"I wouldn’t wish to make Mr. Oh wait" I surrender without further ado.

The dreadful night was becoming longer and slower.

The papers are the written form of a severe migraine and all the professional jargon that is littered in every sentence only worsens the experience. I plough through the pages mechanically and take notes in the notepad I carried.

The presentation itself was lengthy and extremely vital to expanding the new branch. I had seen Mr. Oh pore over thousands of records and demos each day in preparation.

If he wasn't present in the meeting, he was cooped in his cabin, approving or disapproving every stage of the planning and driving the staff members to draw better proposals. There was no comparison to his work ethic; it was absolutely impeccable and his priorities were singularly focused in delivering astounding results.

I am so absorbed in the assignment that I don’t notice the leggy, blonde attendant impatiently expecting me to the clean the tray, I was using as an improvised desk until she tapped my shoulder forcefully.

"Sir the dinner is being served. Kindly tidy this clutter" she entreats frigidly and her earnest performance is completely missing. Someone must have had a big bowl of bitchflakes.

"Please" I lead after organizing things in their rightful place and receive a taut stretch of her lips.

The meal is lavish and I can barely recognize two dishes amongst the delicious courses. I had eaten at almost every restaurant in South Korea and could scarcely recognize what I was gobbling. The silver chopsticks slowed down my pace and reminded me of how awful I was in clasping them.

"Mr. Byun your chopsticks keep falling because you're clutching them like a toddler" Mr. Oh criticizes from the opposite seat. Startled, I drop them again and pray for the power to teleport from one place to another in a matter of seconds or at least to be invisible.

Unfortunately this wasn’t X-Men and I was no mutant.

"Mr. Oh I don't use these often as they can be rather dangerous. You never know when it might end up stuck inside your throat" I beam innocently.

"I suppose that is possible when your coordination is pathetic at best" he concedes plainly and misses my scathing glares.

"Of course Mr. Oh, not all of us can be blessed with your…talent" I retort, voice dripping sarcasm.

It really is a gift to extinguish people's joy by his mere presence.

"Have you completed your analysis of the reports Mr. Byun?" he dismisses my jab.

"Yes sir. I believe the presentation will go smoothly" I say confidently.

"Let's hope for both our sakes, that is the truth Mr. Byun" he reverts sternly and the insinuation in the air is strong. It was my skull on the chopping block if things went wrong.

"Sir we'll be arriving at our destination in 15 minutes and the Presidential Suite has been booked at the Four Seasons" Norma updates and her sickly sweet smile appears again. This diabolical woman.

When the plane lands there is a limo awaiting to chauffeur us to the hotel and I go through the motions robotically. The checking in is finished en route and we enter from the VIP gate avoiding the additional disturbances.

Though, our arrival had been hidden from the media, there is a throng of girls crowding the VIP lounge and they scream in delight, swarming us at once. For the first time I am thankful for the security detail always attached to Mr. Oh as they shield us from the onslaught of starving fans who wanted nothing but a chunky piece of _the_ _Oh Sehun_.

They had brought large and sleek cameras with lenses, the size of my arm. The whizz, of the countless shutters clicking is drowned by the explosive chants of ' _Sehun, Sehun_ , _Sehun_ '.

I was right, Mr. Oh did have his own fan club that tailed him everywhere he went and captured aesthetic pictures of him that made him seem angelic to unsuspecting girls.

If I didn't know any better I would think Mr. Oh was modeling for these shots and feeding the frenzy. But no, the man was only walking and hundreds of teenagers cooed. If we could have an expectation versus reality comparison made of Mr. Oh, I bet these fans would run for the hills and shudder in the aftermath of the nightmare.

"This is your suite, sir" the Bellboy announces when we reach the 43rd level and Mr. Oh paces into the room, locking the door without sparing me a glance.

I am unbothered because for the rest of the night I was free from the Devil's clutch and peace was finally on the horizon for this tired soul.

"Could I have the card to my room? I’ve had a stressful day" I articulate to the bellboy who seems awkward in light of the dramatic scene.

"I am not sure what you mean, sir" he mutters, stumped.

"This is Mr. Oh's room, so which is mine?" I repeat, patiently.

"This is the only room" he reveals simply and those two words cause a crack to develop in my already exhausted sanity. Which was bound to happen eventually when you spent your days with Mr. Oh and nights recovering from his torture.

"How can there be one room when there are two of us?" I argue harshly.

Could he not grasp the absurdity of the situation?

"I am not aware of the details Sir, kindly contact the reception or Mr. Oh's personal butler" he insists and tactfully removes himself from the scene resuming his assigned station.

This privileged brat has a presidential suite and his own butler but conveniently forgot about my existence. The goddamn audacity.

The descent to the reception is agonizingly slow and that allows me to simmer in my anger. It is 12:40 am and the lobby is deserted expect for the petite lady manning the desk attired in the staff uniform.

"Excuse me" I alert her to my presence.

"Good evening Sir how may I be of assistance?" she offers pleasantly and it feels like she might relieve me of my predicament.

"There seems to have been some misunderstanding in regards to the number of rooms we reserved. Our Company had specifically arranged for two but we've only gotten a suite so far" I describe, mustering more courtesy than I thought possible, considering the temper I was sporting.

"We are terribly sorry to hear that Sir. May I please know under whose name the reservation was made?" she enquires, apologetically.

"Oh Sehun" I provide and her nimble fingers freeze on the keyboard. _Go figure_. The man was a force to be reckoned with even when he was not physically present.

"Please give me a moment sir" she stammers, typing frantically.

"No pressure” I yield sympathetic to her fear.

"According to our register, a single reservation was made under the Director's name" she recounts, perplexed.

"Are you absolutely sure? Could you please check again?" I suggest panicked at the image of having to find a hotel at this time in a city whose language I did not speak and its people I did not know.

"Sir, I'm afraid the conclusion is the same, Mr. Oh is our regular patron and usually he is unaccompanied" she divulges, considerate to my plight. I was on the verge of collapsing after working nearly 18 hours and this was the last thing I needed on my already full plate.

Did I run over a friggin puppy to have this intensely, excruciatingly shitty fate?

"Are there other available vacancies?" I weep silently and massage the soreness from my neck.

"I apologize for the inconvenience but everything is occupied sir" she confirms and I nod in defeat.

That is just spectacular.

I flop onto the couch in the lobby, utterly drained and think of an alternative to the problem I was stuck in. The aromatic scent of tea leaves invade my nostrils and I exhale contentedly. Deciding to grab a cup, I brace myself and proceed upstairs to Mr. Oh's suite to deliver the news.

It is obvious I have to fend for myself and find a proper solution. I better tell his highness about the change in the plan before leaving or he would blame me and I will have to grovel for his forgiveness.

Squeezing a thermos full of steaming Flowery Earl Grey tea, I contemplate whether to knock on Mr. Oh's door or not, when it swings open by itself and a chubby man escorts me inside.

"Mr. Woojin did you forget something?" Mr. Oh calls appearing in the lit foyer.

"It is not Mr. Woojin" I utter cautiously.

"What are you doing here Mr. Byun?" he probes and his indifference speaks volumes.

"There is a small dilemma" I initiate and instantly his expression turns grave.

"It is nothing as awful as you're imagining" I defend immediately and the tension in his shoulders dissipates.

"Be more precise Mr. Byun, I do not tolerate ambiguity" he snaps.

"Since Mr. Oh always comes alone to the hotel, the reservation was made only for you and there are no vacancies. Therefore I will be staying elsewhere" I rush through my story and don’t give him an opportunity to refuse.

"So if you need anything please...call me" I offer begrudgingly when he is pokerfaced.

"Mr. Byun what I gather from your inadequate explanation is that if there is an urgency, I will have to wait for you to arrive from whichever third rate motel you might discover in the middle of the night, that could possibly be very far from here?" he simplifies, his incredulousness increasing with each word.

"Essentially. Yes" I accept without beating around the bush.

"Mr. Byun in the time that you have worked for me, have you ever found me waiting for someone?" he raises and his attitude remains stoic.

"No" I respond reluctantly. Everybody treated him like he was a category five hurricane and avoided any sort of confrontation or conflict.

"And I am not about to start the habit for your sake" he deadpans and I groan inwardly.

"What would have me do Mr. Oh?" I sigh tiredly.

"You'll be staying in my suite" he declares and I am gaping hugely.

What on earth was happening?

Why was I being tormented?

What had I done to deserve this sheer torture?

How could I possibly remain in the same room with a man who was offended by my mere existence?

"Mr. Oh are you asking me to stay with you?" I practically shriek as I follow him.

"I didn't ask Mr. Byun I told you" he counters arrogantly.

"B-bu-but Mr. Oh!" I exclaim trying to convey how appalling this arrangement was for me.

There was no guaranteeing what I would or would not do if I was forced to spend another minute with him.

"Is there a problem?" he demands sternly but I don't and cannot forfeit my stand.

"Yes Mr. Oh. I see one King size bed and we can't..we can't...I mean it’s not reasonable to share it" I splutter, the horror of this scenario dawning harder.

"There is a rollaway bed Mr. Byun" he says impassively and the said bed creeps into view. I pump my fists and nearly weep in unrestrained joy. This was heaven compared to lying in the same space as the Spawn of Satan.

"Oh" is all I mention and he enters the enormous bathroom closing the door with a resounding click.

I did not have the energy or the resolve to fight this anymore and put my bag in the spare wardrobe ready to fall asleep. Despite the circumstance the mattress was inviting and my eyelids were drooping shut on their own, however, I couldn't doze off without scrubbing the day’s exertion clean.

Later, Mr. Oh returns and I drag my heavy feet towards the loo, collecting the toiletries pouch. The steam wafting from the bath clouds my already foggy vision and I have to blindly guess the path through the haze. I eventually find resistance in the form of a smooth surface and puzzle over what it could be.

"Mr. Byun" came the abrupt reply and I stumble backwards with an unattractive yelp. The mist finally disperses and Mr. Oh scowls his way to where I was stood, clad in the white towel.

"Is it that hard to walk on a flat surface without finding something to slam into?" he scorns and my clumsy comeback gets crushed in my windpipe as I gawk at Mr. Oh's half naked glory.

The edge of the towel hung low, displaying the flat planes of his stomach and my mouth widens in amazement. I struggle to fathom what in Lord’s name this fortune was and realize awfully late that my eyes weren’t fixated on his face. In reality, they were sweeping all over his deliciously, defined physique.

Mr. Oh worked out.

Like he lifted 25 pound bars and bench pressed 225, kind of worked out.

A flush of unwanted and totally inappropriate heat engulfs me when my sight travels further down his body to the v-line sculpted from marble. I have to bite the inside of my cheek to stifle the gasp that threatened to spill and expose my desire.

My gaze pursued his carved abdomen to his strong chest and broad collars, nicely draped in pale, unblemished skin. It seemed so unreal that my fingers clutched at empty air, aching to confirm their solid and chiseled perfection.

The impatience radiates from Mr. Oh but I did not care. In that instant, I craved to linger quietly and admire Mr. Oh in this manner for a long time. A _very, very, long_ time.

It didn't matter how much I disliked Mr. Oh generally when his superior and glorious magnificence was being flaunted to appreciate. Even I was not petty enough to discredit real beauty when I saw it.

God really took his time creating and molding Oh Sehun into the stunning man he is today. I'm certain his parents played a part in it but not as much as Goddess Venus or the fucking God of Sex whoever he maybe.

He was designed to make every normal person feel inferior and crave for him like he was an addiction. There was not a flaw to be found in his features, you could actually use a magnifying glass and examine him but still fail to find a speck of ugliness in him.

For some reason I am confident this will forever be etched in my memory and I am not unhappy about it. On the contrary, I'm gloating when I imagine all the fan girls who would love to be in my position.

"Mr. Byun have you never seen a man before?" Mr. Oh taunts decisively and that tugs me from my daydream.

"I-I ha-hav-ee" I stammer and blush furiously.

"Then were you perhaps solving the mysteries of the universe as you blatantly ogled me?" he scoffs not buying my bullshit excuse.

"I was not ogling you Mr. Oh, I was merely shocked by your appearance" I claim, warily.

"Why would my appearance startle you when you see me every day?" he prods, unrelenting.

"Because you are a stunning motherfucker" I mumble under my breath.

"Stop muttering to yourself and speak louder Mr. Byun" he provokes and I ignore the attempt.

Mr. Oh was an expert interrogator and had the skill to wring your confession for anything especially if you were oblivious to it.

"I said it is important for Mr. Oh to maintain his health and get some rest" I evade secretively.

"Lying is completely fine but lying that atrociously is not" Mr. Oh notes, his tone unexpectedly humorous.

"I didn't lie to you Mr. Oh" I whine at his stubbornness and the laughter that gushes from him almost becomes the cause of my death. I hold onto the ledge of the sink and avoid planting my face firmly on the tiled floor. Is this what people mean by too much of a good thing is bad?

"Careful Mr. Byun, those lies can be quite slippery" he snickers and I huff in frustration.

Why won't he let me breathe peacefully?

He either drove me to insanity or teased me to death. I couldn’t get familiar to the hot and cold character of his.

He was always formidable but then, there were these moments when the playful side would peek and force you to acknowledge the thrill of pleasure it brought along. Those glimpses were between few and far but they were endearing. It made him seem human like the rest of us.

"I'm sure they say that about your ego as well" I grumble and latch the door.

_Sweet Baby Jesus_ what was _that_?

I literally had one job. _One fucking job_ ; March to the bloody shower without bumping into anything specifically, not Mr. Oh. _But no_. I had staggered around as though I had drunk Russian vodka straight from the bottle and done exactly that.

And the ordeal hadn't ended there. I embarrassed myself by staring at him like a teenager who had just hit puberty and wanted to jump the hot neighbor. Now he was bound to assume I have a raging crush on him and that I was no different from the many he had bewitched.

Honestly, I was _not_ infatuated with Mr. Oh (at least not to that extent).

The correct term is, mildly attracted to him.

I strip off my clothes and draw the curtains, keen to be under the cleansing stream of water. It cascades over me and I hold my face to the warm droplets. It's easy to adjust the temperature accurately to my preference thanks to the advanced technology of the system and soon I am groaning in relief.

I wash away my mortification and the nagging pool of longing that had lingered after witnessing Mr. Oh in that manner. My awkward fingers trail a line across my stomach, exerting pressure and hovering above my shaft. I unconsciously caress the sensitive spot of my inner thighs and release a stuttered gasp at the tingling sensation. I continue brushing the expanse of soft skin and tension coils deep in my gut. I felt rather lewd doing this with another person in the close proximity and it would be inconvenient if Mr. Oh were to-

" _Fuck fuck fuck_ " I curse loudly.

Why was I acting recklessly? Did I not have an ounce of control?

What was I doing with Mr. Oh five feet away from me? While fantasizing about him nonetheless.

_You're tired_ , my subconscious rationalizes and I agree stricken with immense guilt.

Thankfully, when I exit Mr. Oh is cozily wrapped in the duvet, eyelids closed against the dim light and his breathing deep and relaxed. I skip the 'wallowing in shame' routine and follow suit, snuggling into the spare cot in the other corner of the suite. Sleep overtakes my consciousness is seconds and I am floating amongst the pillows.

 

 

Coldness envelops me and there is moisture clinging to me. Soon it is dripping down to my nose and spreading inside my mouth. Heart hammering wildly, I flail to regain my composure but no matter how I supported myself I couldn't contain the pure terror of drowning and the water filled my lungs.

I strain to move my limbs but they are frozen and I can't see what I am fighting against. Suddenly the oxygen disappears and I force myself to wrestle harshly and push persistently.

All at once, the icy water vanishes and I cough continuously, spewing liquid everywhere. Straining to draw in mouthfuls of air I end up wheezing.

"Good morning Mr. Byun" I hear Mr. Oh’s greeting whilst scrambling to compose my throbbing chest. The wetness of the sheets is the first thing I register and then the silver pitcher Mr. Oh dangles carelessly.

"Mr. Oh did you pour water on me?" I shriek, realizing the satisfied glint in his eyes.

"You're a sound sleeper Mr. Byun I had to resort to great measures to awaken you" he explains calmly.

"You could have killed me!" I yell, horrified that he was this relaxed.

"Hardly" he scoffs, dragging the word "I am sure you would have survived."

"And if I hadn't?" I challenge, livid at his inconsiderate behavior.

"Mr. Byun in case you hadn't noticed we are right in the center of the city with all the amenities required. If your condition were to really worsen as you so dramatically implied I would have asked my staff to carry you to the nearest hospital" he clarifies, brows furrowed in displeasure.

"Or you could have shook me until I woke up instead of trying to murder me Mr. Oh" I scold, through gritted teeth.

"It was inconvenient considering the fact that I was already dressed" he claims.

"Mr. Oh what was so important that you had to endanger my life?" I ask curtly although inside I was a raging mess.

"I need a fresh package of the Clive Christian perfume I wear; my housekeeper was careless enough to forget packing it. The hotel will arrange for the cologne and you will have to collect it from them" he communicates.

Sometimes when we rip a paper with our whole might there is that one piece, that manages to stay attached but just scarcely and you wonder how it was possible before tearing it apart wholly.

I was the piece, which was barely hanging on and my sanity or the lack thereof was the proof of that. After weeks of enduring this privileged megalomaniac's torment I finally cracked and burst forth.

"I have always believed hate is an ugly emotion. It takes too much energy and is absolutely worthless. But today more than ever I hate you. I truly detest you Mr. Oh" I say quivering in repressed fury.

"I would say the feeling is mutual Mr. Byun but as you alleged it is a worthless emotion and I don't see the point in giving you the importance by hating you" he states.

If I thought I had been cold to him I couldn't articulate what his tone conveyed. But it was the final straw to my dwindling patience.

I grabbed him by the shirt he was careful not to wrinkle and wipe my soaking head on it. I rub the moisture against him enthusiastically and disregard the steely arms that are trying to control my movements. The more he tried to detach me, the harder I clung on until I was pleased that every bit of water was now firmly soaked in his shirt.

"Mr. Byun you are going to regret this" he growls and it was my turn to smirk boastfully.

"Hardly Mr. Oh, on the contrary I think I’ll survive it" I answer cockily and the grip on my shoulders tightens. I hang my head low to hide the grimace and he rocks me so that I am facing him again.

"Must you always behave like an animal? You are worse than a child" he snarls and I gain sick satisfaction in knowing I did this to him.

"What can I say, Mr. Oh you bring out the best in me" I observe gladly.

"Mr. Byun you seem very keen in extending your stay with us. Shall I notify the legal team to extend our contract?" he threatens crowding me till, the back of my knees meet his bed and I gulp. It was brutal to imagine spending a year with him but if he were to increase the time period, I wasn’t aware how lengthy or how terrible it would be for me. Nonetheless, it is annoying that he recognizes my weaknesses and derives immense joy in stabbing it.

"Mr. Oh you can extend it all you want. If I am staying then you are going to have to bear me that much longer and believe me when I tell you I won't be making it easy for you" I remark, standing on my tippy toes until we were eye level.

"You wouldn't necessarily be working as my Secretary. I heard Miss. Priscilla requested to retire and Yunho will require a replacement" he muses and I have the urge to smack the smug smile off his face.

"Mr. Oh you wouldn't" I sniffle at the thought.

"I would" he asserts the devilish leer returning.

"I have done nothing to deserve that" I protest.

"Let me be the judge of that Mr. Byun" he affirms leaning down so our noses touch and his breath fans across my lips.

"Mr. Oh has anyone told you how unbearable you are?" I grouch and dig my nails into his wet sleeves, hoping to draw blood or at least leave permanent marks.

I had no means of convincing him and I did not wish to beg him even when the situation was this dire. I'd like to keep my dignity intact. _Thank you very much._

"Frequently. Under different context of course" he professes and it is impossible to miss the underlying meaning. I am rendered speechless and flush crimson red. My flustered state encourages his pride and he grins, enjoying the hole I was digging for myself.

I try to loosen his clasp on me but he doesn't budge and instead puts both my wrists in one of his enormous paws. I am confused when his free hand travels upwards and cringe believing he might smack me but actually he strokes my scruffy hair.

In the beginning it is a soft pat, mostly hesitant and later he fixes the strands that must have been tangled.

His touch is light and careful.

He smoothens a few locks behind my earlobe and I shiver violently. I had to change my clothes; the cold was affecting me.

"Mr. Oh?" I squeak beyond shocked.

"Hmmm" he hums in response and his unyielding chest rumbles beneath my palm. His fingers slowly glide below and tenderly ghosts along the line of my jaw. Goosebumps trail all over me when he tilts my chin upwards and I exhale shakily

“Why do you remind me so much of him?” he whispers near my throat and I am lost, helpless and spellbound.

Suddenly the invading heat is gone and I am lying flat on the bed that smells of him.

He left.

I pant desperately and attempt to gather my wits. I still had to run that errand for Mr. Oh and probably buy him a new shirt but my legs had turned into jelly. Every part that he had traced burned in memory.

_What has he done to me?_

_And who did I remind him of?_

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Very Very sorry for the late update :( But we promise to update quicker next time! Much love to all who waited for us <3


	9. A Strange Lunch and A Gasping Confession

**BAEKHYUN'S POV**

 

To blatantly suppose that the water fiasco was long forgotten and swept under the rug would be the biggest lie I had fabricated and concocted out of thin _fucking_ air.

The small LED screen is tuned in to a random channel and a frigid reporter recites the news monotonously in Chinese. Sullen silence lingers in the expansive sedan and I reckon it could make a Grim Reaper feel welcomed. Occupying the farthest edge of the seat I put as much distance between Mr. Oh and I, as is humanly possible. The fight was still fresh in my memory and the awkwardness inescapable.

From time to time I peek at him, quietly gauging his changing temperament or any trace of the person who seemed to think caressing my hair was nice or remotely acceptable. Doing this had become my routine from the past few weeks such that I was accustomed enough to gaze without abandon while he made important phone calls and issued explicit instructions to his faithful minions.

The smooth planes of his chest glint past the undone buttons of his opulent, navy blue shirt at whose price tag I had keeled over. " _Debts must be returned with interest Mr. Byun, let this be a lesson for you_ " he had imparted while I wept tears of peasant blood upon seeing my hollow bank balance.

My mind drifts to what had occurred within the confines of Mr. Oh’s private suite and unconsciously my fingers nuzzled the base of my willowy throat, where the skin throbbed in reminiscence of the teasing encounter. An ember had gradually begun to burn, whether it was my curiosity regarding Mr. Oh’s actions or the reaction it had provoked in me was something I couldn't ascertain. This was _strange_. I believed the typical emotions Mr. Oh was capable of stirring in me were intense dislike and weariness, not confusion or this segue from mild attraction to yearning for a second by second replay of _that_ scene.

I struggle to accomplish the impossible- pretend that Mr. Oh hadn't been breathing in every inch of my personal space without recoiling in disgust or flashing his trademark scowl, that equaled to millions of his insults, only an hour ago. It is perturbing how transfixed I am by him, to the point where I was considering forgiveness for the absolutely asinine stunt he had pulled earlier.

“Mr. Byun I must confess, you can be extraordinarily slow witted and tactless. I do appreciate your interest in my torso but I doubt it deserves five minutes of your undivided attention” he observes solemnly and all the sirens inside my head wail in unison. I had a nagging feeling that someday my brain would shut down from the sheer embarrassment I would inadvertently expose myself to.

“Mr. Oh it is _really_ surprising how a gentleman of your stature could be this delusional” I retort not reining the sarcasm.

“Lying is an art mastered by the seemingly naïve and the subtly cunning kind of humans. You are neither Mr. Byun and therefore not allowed to use it as your defense” he remarks and I am flailing for the simplest retaliation.

“Who do I remind you of Mr. Oh?” I blurt, settling for distraction instead of a clever response.

“Say Mr. Byun, have you found yourself wandering inside a Restricted Zone?” he wonders casually.

“No Mr. Oh, I haven’t” I admit baffled by the irrelevant question.

“And why haven't you Mr. Byun?” he repeats shifting his focus.

“Because it is prohibited to do so and I don’t know what is inside there” I state blindly missing the point he was clearly trying to convey.

“Exactly. Consider my position in your life as that restricted sign and the fact that you don’t know what is inside as your warning to avoid swimming in unfamiliar depths” he suggests, smiling serenely while exiting the vehicle. One could mistake it for cordiality when in truth it was the closest he would ever come to telling me to fuck off.

“Your analogies _suck_!” I holler in the empty backseat and pursue his fading shadow.

The refusal and the torn expression that accompanied the rejection had peaked my curiosity. I couldn’t rest easy until I unraveled the mystery of the unknown person but for now I would have to devote myself to finishing this conference without fainting halfway. The nervousness had transformed into debilitating nausea and I was afraid of throwing up on Mr. Oh’s expensive shoes at any moment.

The security detail completely surrounds us and the team Mr. Oh had specifically formed for this project flanks us from both the sides. They deliver an elaborate status report of all the individuals present inside the hall and it is obvious that Mr. Oh has already selected the potential investors he would mercilessly captivate today.

Several doors open seamlessly and Mr. Oh is ushered in almost reverently. The enormous auditorium is much colder than the outside and I shudder when every gaze lands on the uniform legion that is Oh Enterprises. Thick silence envelops the seating area while Mr. Oh ascends the elevated podium and beckons me to follow the example by a slight flick of his wrist. Moving towards the corner of the stage I carry Mr. Oh’s MacBook and the necessary materials for the presentation. I practically blend into the wall in my attempt to remain obscure and inconspicuous.

“Good Morning Ladies and Gentleman, I hope your stay in Hong Kong has been pleasant so far. I am Oh Sehun, CEO of Oh Enterprises and am very pleased to have your invaluable support as I embark on this new journey. I can guarantee that some of you are going to leave this room many millions lighter” he addresses the crowd and the audience enjoys the humorous introduction. I suppose this was the equivalent of lunch money for people who were ranked among the top by respectable magazines like Forbes. As Bruno Mars would sing it, they were _smiling next to Oprah and the Queen_.

“We aren't complaining son” a booming encouragement resonates, eliciting a twinkle of amusement from Mr. Oh.

“Mr. Kim, I am not entirely sure Junmyeon would agree with you there. He has been constantly harking me about persuading you to sign over your shares in Empire” he comments prompting another uproarious bout of laughter.

“Nonsense, I transferred my shares willingly and with the full assurance that my son would be kept in line” he protests cheerfully and I briefly ponder their mutual relationship.

At this point it was hard to judge who was the elder of the two. Mr. Junmyeon is a marginally carefree soul in comparison to Mr. Oh but the success he had achieved since the inception of Empire was truly commendable. It is safe to conclude that he is one of the carefully chosen people to whom Mr. Oh paid heed to and that in itself, was exceptionally uncommon for someone who coldly shrugged off even the smallest measure of comfort or concern.

 

“It was my father’s dream to expand our reach to the country that gave him so much when he needed it the most. It unquestionably set the path for his success. He treasured and was treasured by China and his wonderful companions here. Although he left us before he could fulfill that vision, I have never forgotten it. And I hope today can mark the beginning of that unfulfilled ambition” he continues tone infinitely softer than expected.

This is the first time Mr. Oh has spoken about his late father publicly and the respect he has for him is evident in the cherishing vow to honor his aspiration. If the wistful expression is anything to go by, Mr. Oh missed his father terribly and a glance around the room proves he is not alone in that belief; the lasting impression of his statement has been felt similarly by every single person. Oh senior was a man worthy of utmost admiration and the hundreds of reputable businessmen standing in deference is a testament to that fact.

The presentation commences without further ado and proceeds positively. I ignore the fickle differences I shared with Mr. Oh and the fanciful flickers of transparency I had presumed to notice in his behavior prior to this. It would do no good to dwell on such wild notions and forget the purpose of my presence here.

Although the significance of the event is immense Mr. Oh conducts himself in an undaunted and self-assured manner. His speech is precise and emphasizes each of the key points faultlessly. The expertise and efficiency is so palpable that I am influenced to do my part in equal diligence. Surprisingly, I don't botch the whole affair and make a fool of myself but in hindsight that was mostly because of the fear of having to endure the consequences Mr. Oh would undoubtedly subject me to in case of failure. It had served as a more powerful motivator than my _own will_.

The meeting is a roaring success according to my prediction and there wasn't a moment to relax or slacken our efforts. It had been extremely intense from the beginning till the _bloody_ end. The conference room was filled to the brim with the top dogs from distinguished and frighteningly prosperous companies. And the unshakeable faith Mr. Oh had in his competence allowed him to lead them in formation like he was the Grand Master in a game of chess. No amount of comparison between Mr. Oh and these wealthy tycoons could even their playing field. The instant he demonstrated his proposal they were on the bottom rung of the chain of command whereas he had thrived upon his throne.

To be honest I was mesmerized and overwhelmed by the authority he flawlessly exuded, introducing his pitch as if it was understood that every person in this chamber was under his thumb (which was entirely too accurate) and his confidence had incinerated them. His each affirmation carried immeasurable promise and struck a chord in them.

No one in their right mind could question his conviction or the impact it had and as soon as his speech ended the room had erupted in chaos; thundering applause echoing for a quarter of an hour until Mr. Oh himself had to entreat them to cease their appreciation.

He gracefully descends from the podium and I quickly gather the materials I had brought along to accompany him. The technician managing the projection system disconnects the MacBook from the multitude of wires and I thank him for the help.

The assistant bows persistently and I am burdened to return the gesture thereafter. Eventually I edge backwards to break the pattern and the heel of my brogues get tangled in the mass of lengthy cables. Immediately, I am hurtling to the polished, hardwood floor and the world rushes by in a distorted blur, going alarmingly fast yet slow, almost suspended in shock.

My body twists and jerks while I fall, waiting for the impending pain from the tumble. For a full half-minute, my throat is so painfully constricted that I could hardly draw breath and I clenched my eyes shut, dreading the inevitable.

If only I was Michael Jackson, incarnate I could have played this off as an extension of the moon walk but unfortunately, fate had other plans in store and here I was, chasing another mountain of trauma that promised lingering effects since I was clutching Mr. Oh's prized laptop containing valuable information.

Then a new scary thought invades my consciousness-

_What if I slipped in to a coma after plummeting?_

I mean that was plausible when a fragile human being, _insert Byun Baekhyun_ , took a nasty stumble from a 5 feet high platform wasn't it? I could very well suffer from irreparable brain damage, although I was dubious of how much damage, I could possibly cause to my already injured brain cells.

Suddenly, the wind dizzily whizzing past comes to stand still and I am firmly caged within a circle of fierce warmth. The adrenaline is pumping through my veins in sporadic bursts and my heart is hammering like the drums at a carnival. I cling onto whatever invisible favor I had been saved by and send silent prayers to the savior.

"Mr. Byun is this an unnecessary talent or an useless habit? You seem to be in my arms more often than not" the deep, baritone muses in hushed tones and my clammy skin flushes violently.

_I should have just fallen flat on my ass_.

"Huh?" I balk, reeling from the near death experience. It was the fourth time I had initiated a circumstance that forced us in to close proximity and he was _distracting_. It was regrettable, but this close I could see all the flaws he did _not_ possess.

Science needs to preserve these genes.

I am sure such blessed aesthetic proportions and physical attractiveness were incredibly rare.

Realizing the source of the fiery heat concentrated around my waist is from Mr. Oh's steely arms I abruptly straighten up. The movement is rushed and I wince while swaying momentarily but the hands encircling me don't budge an inch. It was as if he was expecting the clumsiness and ever so slightly tightens his hold.

"Young man are you okay?" interjects the concerned query and Mr. Oh slowly steadies me with his palm firmly pressed to the small of my back.

"Y-y-yes Sir I am fine" I assure the stranger and gape in horror at the the laptop lying abandoned near the chairs; noticing my fluster Mr. Oh orders one of the bodyguards to collect the shattered gadget.

"Have it sent to the Technical Department and check if they can retrieve the data" he instructs and the guard disappears with the cracked device. _Dammit_. That just earned me a lifetime subscription to Oh Sehun's blistering and ingenious insults.

"I'm sorry Mr. Oh I didn't mean to" I whisper, only for his hearing.

"We will discuss this later Mr. Byun" he dismisses my show of remorse and I nod feebly. I guess I should be treasuring the last moments of peace before hell broke loose.

"Sehun, I believe we are _long_ overdue for lunch" Mr. Kim faintly chastises Mr. Oh, who actually appears troubled by the rebuke.

"I would be honored to Mr. Kim however, I'm afraid you have caught me in an inconvenient situation again. I apologize for declining but I have an early morning flight bound for Seoul tomorrow" Mr. Oh attempts to politely, pardon himself.

"Son, I swear to hold my liquor unlike last time and send you home earlier. I won't even mention the stories of my military service or the medals I was awarded" Mr. Kim winks and I have to disguise the gleeful smirk as an errant cough. It was obvious he was keen to make Mr. Oh submit to his request, if he was willing to forego the opportunity to gloat over his conquests and glory.

"Mr. Kim are you inclined towards Sushi or French Cuisine?" he finally caves in to the coercion.

"Caviar would be delectable in this weather" Mr. Kim claps, basking in his victory.

"Mr. Byun inform Rafael to make reservations at the Robuchon au Dôme" Mr. Oh directs and I take that as my cue to leave. I would call the snobby Beanpole and hail the first taxi to the hotel.

"Nonsense, you _must_ bring your partner along, he seems rather helpless without you by his side" Mr. Kim chuckles staring mischievously and I am thoroughly baffled. Did I miss a joke?

"Mr. Kim I am certain you have a misunderstanding of some sort" Mr. Oh begins uncertainly.

"We are all adults here Sehun, you don't have to hide anything from me" Mr. Kim forcefully hushes him with a faint smirk.

"Mr. Kim it is honestly-" Mr. Oh tries his luck.

"Sehun there is nothing to worry about, my son will not hear a word of this. Now, enough of this dawdling around, I am starved" he announces and strides away victoriously.

"I am confused" I blurt, when Mr. Kim is in the distance.

"Daehyeon inform Rafael that we will be requiring reservations for three, at the Robuchon au Dôme" Mr. Oh reassigns my errand to one of his skittish minions.

"Why does Mr. Kim think that I am your business partner?" I question inquisitively.

"Mr. Byun wait for me in the car" he sighs and disappears completely.

I grumble and fuss and bitch till the idling limousine and await Mr. Oh's arrival like I had been ordered to. Repeated knocks sound on the window pane and interrupt my marathon of complaining. I press the button in the protruding, handrest and openly glare at the intruder.

"Hey there cutie" Mr. Jung greets, leaning his elbows on the ledge by the lowered glass frame and I recoil backwards, anxious.

"Mr. Jung what are you doing here?" I demand almost accusingly and his thick eyebrows scrunch together, highlighting the indistinct scar embedded in his forehead.

"Baekhyun, in case you forgot we are colleagues" he reminds, excessively happy and I actually cringe at the casual use of my given name.

"Mr. Jung it may be the residual effects from when you invaded my personal space and latched onto my behind as if you were the Chimp that found a banana" I explain wryly.

"Did you insult me?" he muses

"Yes, God _Yes_. What are you going to do Mr. Jung?" I confirm snarkily.

"I like you Baekhyunnie" he grins, delighted.

"I don't" I deadpan.

"Pay no heed to what happened, despite your belief that my intentions were anything but pure I can assure you that my other friends are treated alike" he blabbers oblivious to my cynical brooding.

"You cannot possibly tell me that you grab all your friend's butt's so suggestively" I scoff noisily.

Did he honestly take me for a fool? I could have guessed his improper motives from miles away; it was plain as a day and required no further justification, especially one as lousy as that.

"Indeed" he affirms, unruffled by the blatant verbal attack, which was less than gracious in my opinion.

"Then by the extension of that argument, if Mr. Oh were to appear before you, would you do the same to him?" I challenge discerning the silhouette of the said man from afar.

" _Absolutely_ , I wouldn't hesitate. I have been babysitting Sehun since he was a snotty kid running around in his diapers crying wolf" he guffaws enjoying a private joke and I struggle to picture a younger version of Oh Sehun unaffected by the flinty, ferocious adult he was today.

"Are you sure that was Mr. Oh? Because try as I might I cannot imagine that. I feel like he skipped past the drooling, eating legos stage and jumped straight in to this sophisticated edition of himself" I imply frankly and he cackles, unrestrained.

"It is true that he is grouchier than any normal 19 year old but he has his reasons" he comments oddly contemplative.

"Yunho I do believe you were destined to work in the faxing department" Mr. Oh remarks, annoyed.

"Speak of the devil" he whistles impressed and swivels to meet Mr. Oh.

"Why are you harassing my secretary instead of accompanying Mr. Yanai to our new branch?" he grills.

"I was doing just that, then I remembered you would be too heartless to feed Baekhyun and came to fetch him" Mr. Jung alleges, winking sneakily and I downright ignore him. Either, he was being purposefully obtuse or he was rotten at reading between the lines.

"Mr. Byun should be the least of your concerns" he glowers.

"Sehunnie you have to treat your secretaries better otherwise they will end up going to weekly therapy sessions with all your ex girlfriends" Mr. Jung retorts and earns a withering glare from him.

"Yunho if you aren't gone in the next five seconds the hotel staff might find you lying unconscious in your suite after accidentally consuming a glass of super glue" Mr. Oh threatens genially and I wince.

"I cannot understand how insensitive you are, knowing full well how _disturbing_ that experience was for me" Mr. Jung gasps offended and I wonder why it was such a touchy subject. Perhaps a scarring tale?

"You could have avoided it altogether, if you had heeded to my caution" Mr. Oh articulates sternly.

"How was I supposed to know that she would spike my drink when I was busy fending off my admirers?" Mr. Jung exclaims and I am aghast that someone would actually do that. What kind of psychopaths are roaming around?

"Enough, I am late for an appointment" Mr. Oh stifles his dramatic wailing.

"What about Baekhyun?" he boomerangs relentlessly.

"I will feed him" Mr. Oh snaps and signals the chauffeur to drive, deserting a sulking Mr. Jung on the lane.

There is an awkward calmness in the car and I fidget nervously. I was fairly clueless about our destination and the unknown roads stretching in unfamiliar directions were not reassuring.

"Mr. Oh where are we headed?" I ask hesitantly and my question is met with grating silence.

"Seatbelt" he responds at length and I give it a rest, fixing the safety strap in the slot. There was no point in aggravating him when his feathers were already ruffled, courtesy of Jung Yunho.

Arriving at the restaurant is done via the main lobby in the Grand Lisboa, walking past the hundreds of tourists, in true Macau style and large diamonds, huge bone carvings are on display. The Grand Lisboa, with its yellow, gold and silver paneled facade is beyond fascinating.

We enter the restaurant’s level, which is beneath the hotel’s dome and the sight of a shiny piano and exquisite chandelier greets us. The interior is just as ostentatious, grand and golden as the exterior.

Dessert, cheese, petit four carts are aligned next to the elevator as a sign of the indulgence that is to come and I relish it. It reminds me of the elegance of old hotels like the Raffles in Singapore where I had stayed with my father during the vintage automobiles exhibition he had organized.

The carpet is thick, plush and the glittering fixtures reflect the aggressive lights that never seem to stop in this city. We are guided to our table by the steward and the menus lie in wait along with an enthusiastic Mr. Kim.

"I am sorry for the delay Mr. Kim something unexpected came up" he apologizes, grimacing imperceptibly.

"Sehun please. Being a CEO means something will always require your attention" he accepts amiably.

"Thank you for inviting me as well Mr. Kim, I am Byun Baekhyun and it is an honor to lunch with you" I express sincerely even if I had no idea why I was invited at all.

"There is no need to be formal son. This is the first time our Sehun has openly dated anyone and I couldn't be happier. Although Junmyeon did tell me there was someone of interest he would like to introduce me to, I didn't think it would be Sehun's beau" he says glee creasing the corner of his bright eyes and the thin column of the sparkling crystal flute breaks in my rigid hands. Thankfully, the maître d' cleans the splinters before it causes any real damage except for the slashes on my ring and pinky finger. I dab the cuts using the starched and untameable napkin.

"My my, you are quite haphazard son" Mr. Kim chuckles and I turn scarlet.

_That was not the point!_

"Mr. Byun why must you be so catastrophic?" Mr. Oh reproves and I am struck dumb. Was he not aware of what Mr. Kim had claimed or was he choosing to let it slide?

" _What is happening?_ " I gesture inconspicuously and he regards me with polite disinterest. My head spins from the zillions of questions floating around it and I am ready to throw the silverware everywhere just to get a reaction from him.

This man was under the impression that Mr. Oh and I were dating. _Dear Lord._

_Dating_!

Is that why he had called me Mr. Oh's partner earlier? I misread the context and assumed something else when Mr. Oh was trying to clear the confusion. And I certainly hadn't helped by moronically enjoying the discussion and allowing Mr. Kim to heckle him when Mr. Oh was attempting to rectify the mistake.

I had shot myself in the friggin foot!

"Mr. Kim I am sorry but-" I begin to contradict his speculation.

"You don't have to apologize for anything Baekhyun - may I call you Baekhyun?" he chimes in and I agree.

"As I was saying I know youngsters prefer to keep these matters private therefore I won't pry unreasonably" he reveals conspiringly and I am speechless.

"Shall we order?" Mr. Oh intervenes, signalling to the maître d' who materializes with a steward in tow.

"How may I serve you messieurs?" he beams brilliantly.

"We will have three Crustaces course and a bottle of the 1961 La Chappelle please" he lists off and the maître d' bows delightedly.

"The presentation was phenomenal Sehun and I am sure if your father were here today he would be extremely proud of you" Mr. Kim praises paternally.

"Thank you uncle but I will have to disagree" Mr. Oh replies ruefully and the smile doesn't stretch beyond a simple curve.

"You are too hard on yourself son" he scolds softly.

"I suppose we all have our ways of repenting" Mr. Oh answers and the melancholy in his voice is unmistakable.

"You lost them both too early son. I wish things had turned out differently but you cannot blame yourself. You couldn't have saved them. None of us could have" Mr. Kim consoles, despondently.

_Both_? I knew Mr. Oh's father had passed away in an accident but who was the other person?

"Uncle please don't worry yourself on my account. I have come to terms with it and moved on" he assures and the profound distress in that statement is something I have never witnessed.

All this while I have only witnessed the strong, indestructible facet of Mr. Oh's personality and yet here he was, admittedly vulnerable. It is shocking and I am possessed with an overwhelming urge to comfort him but it would not be welcomed or appreciated.

"I was afraid you had given up on the thought of finding love but I am glad that I am wrong" he gazes fondly at our intertwined hands and I blush crimson red. My impulse to relieve his pain had become transparent.

Withdrawing my palm, I quell the instinct to run as far as possible and opt to eat the food. Mr. Kim was adamant on ignoring anything we had to offer and I couldn't comprehend how he could have misunderstood. If I wasn't bickering with Mr. Oh then I was definitely plotting his murder, so from which angle could we have appeared like a couple?

_You don't mind_ , my subconscious comments nonchalantly.

True, dating Mr. Oh wasn't that bad.

_WHAT?_

No no no no it was bad and awful and unbearable!

_Ugh_ I would probably be smothered alive under that gigantic ego.

"Mr. Byun is the food not to your liking?" Mr. Oh wonders after watching me push the caviar around the plate and I can't look him in the eyes.

"No! I mean yes! It is to my li-liking" I stammer and take a huge bite to discourage his suspicions. My mind was running amok and the decadent, refined taste was lost on me. The remainder of the lunch passes uneventfully and I speak only when I am spoken to.

Shrill rings disturb the flow of the conversation and Mr. Kim is summoned by his persuasive wife. He leaves securing the promise of another dinner and a kind compliment about enjoying my company. We follow suit and the chauffeur drives us to the hotel.

Tired from the strange lunch and the plethora of doubts it had created I drift off to a troubled slumber.

_Please pick me up oppa_

_Please pick me up oppa_

_Please pick me up oppa_ , Is the sentence replaying incessantly and disrupting my nap.

It sounds awfully familiar and baffled, I search for the source. Rafael is flaunting Mr. Oh's IPhone and the video of me talking to Chanyeol plays.

" _Sleeping beauty awakens_ " he mocks, seeing me stir awake.

"Why the hell do you have that?" I shriek making a beeline for the mobile to delete the embarrassing clip.

"That is none of your business Mr. Byun" he taunts holding it out of my reach and I jump relentlessly.

"Damn Beanpole" I huff and stomp away after kicking his shin.

"Chipmunk" he sneers immune to the pain. Fucking _zombie_.

"Mr. Oh! Mr. Oh! " I exclaim entering our suite.

"Indoor voice Mr. Byun, I am not deaf" he reprimands, exasperated before I had barely begun.

"Why does Rafael have that video of me?" I demand irritated as well.

"I don't know Mr. Byun, I entrusted the task of waking you to him" he sighs.

"But you didn't have to give him your phone" I rant.

"Then you shouldn't have fallen asleep during the working hours" he states simply.

"I did not! We were finished for the day and you didn't mention other work" I defend.

"If I haven't given you an assignment it doesn't automatically mean you can utilize that time to catch z's Mr. Byun" he notes indifferently.

" _Fine_ I am sorry Mr. Oh but that still doesn't give you any right to show him that video" I assert forcefully.

"Right? That phone is my property and by that definition, everything else inside it" he maintains sternly.

"But that video was of me and you don't own me! Did you stop to consider that maybe I wouldn't want your damn handyman to look at it?" I lash out acutely aware of the rising octaves of my tone.

"Mr. Byun just because I tolerate your little outbursts doesn't mean that I appreciate them. Stop overstepping your boundaries and as far as it comes to owning you, I do. There are no take backs for those who sell their soul" he stresses menacingly.

_Really_?

How _dare_ he use that against me after what happened?

"I am glad you brought that up Mr. Oh. You didn't particularly protest when Mr. Kim presumed we were dating and if that isn't the definition of overstepping your boundaries or being unprofessional then I don't know what is" I retort angrily.

"Mr. Byun I did object instantly unlike you and if memory serves right you didn't even understand what he was insinuating until we reached the restaurant" he replies scathingly and it hits the nail on the mark.

"I did but Mr. Kim wouldn't let me speak" I argue.

"Before you point fingers make sure your hands are clean Mr. Byun" he contends condescendingly.

"He was _your_ acquaintance Mr. Oh not mine. If I were in your position I would have made more of an effort" I grit, offended.

"I am not beholden to you or anyone to offer an explanation. I do as I please Mr. Byun" he claims every bit the forbidding monster he was and I scoff.

Since it had been too inconvenient to argue with Mr. Kim he had used me to maintain the facade.

"By all means Mr. Oh, _God knows_ no one can tell you what to do. Why don't you admit this is a vendetta against me rather than a chance of redemption while you're at it?" I retaliate and storm outside, unable to spend another second in the same room as that pompous bastard.

Does he have multiple personalities?

Who did he think he was? Jerking me about and then making me feel awful about that.

Did he think I was his marionette? That he could subject me to anything and I would accept it gratefully? Inconsiderate asshole!

I hope he chokes on his damn pride.

Heedless, I brush the back of my palm against my face and catch the telltale signs of moisture.

_Fuck_.

 

**CHANYEOL'S POV**

 

The studio had long since become the haven where I sought peace and welcomed the serenity that undoubtedly emerged. My instruments are the channels through which I trumped everyday monotony and delved in the exhilaration of a simple melody that never ceased to be breathtaking.

This afternoon was no different. I had escaped to the welcoming confines of my workspace in the ruse of finding a lost snapback and had eventually laid on the large, suede couch amongst the various musical contraptions to immerse myself in Yiruma's piano rendition of River Flows in You.

_One song_ I promised as I was meant to lend a helping hand in my mother's overcrowded yet flourishing restaurant. The usual staff member called in sick and she couldn't arrange for a replacement in the last minute.

Being the devoted and obedient son, I had happily volunteered my amateur services. I would probably ruin more plates than I could salvage and they would happily add another strike to my ever growing count of broken utensils. I was a repeat offender and couldn't deny the glaring truth.

Saturday's were according to time honored traditions solely reserved for soul appeasing music but today I would have to strike a bargain and settle for a single harmony.

The delicate and graceful notes resound beautifully, awakening the innermost corners of my heart. When I first heard the song I had zero intentions of bawling but there I was sobbing uncontrollably in the middle of the movie theater watching the Twilight saga when the track was played. In that moment I hadn't given a rat's ass about Edward Cullen and Bella's infamous love scene.

It was only the keys of the piano I had listened to and Yiruma himself did not croon a line but I was rendered to a state of rubbing my eyes to stop the never-ending flow of tears. It was _the_ magical experience that pulled many different memories from me and even now as the moisture streaked I reveled in the music.

The sweeter tones remind me of a familiar face; the one that has been haunting me for the past few days, the same one that crumpled in disappointment, the very one that had colored in disbelief when I tried to downplay his feelings, the one that had been so angry and hurt as he walked away from me.

Although I understood what I had seen, I couldn't understand the why of it. Taeyong had needed me to realize something and that something had mattered a lot to him, if the resentment was anything to go by. And I couldn't.

In the two years I had known him there wasn't a single day when he hadn't patiently entertained my tireless chatter or when he hadn't treaded on my heels, cheerfully even if I was too busy to talk to him or when he hadn't glowed a little brighter than usual after I waited outside his class to buy him the ice cream I promised and to take him to the movie we had found interesting.

But now he is acting like he doesn't see me sulking near his locker hoping to talk to him, like how the number of classes I have been the substitute teacher for in his section haven't increased just so I have an excuse to force him to acknowledge me and like he doesn't walk the other way when he sees me.

He is avoiding me and he is doing a bloody _great_ job of it.

This is unfair and I don't know what I had done to deserve the cold shoulder. I have always been the Sunbae who supported him no matter what and indulged all his troublesome behaviour. For Christ sakes I had let him drive my G65 whereas others weren't even allowed to touch the steering wheel of the Mercedes. So why is he treating me as if we are sworn enemies?

Does he _hate_ me now?

The more I thought about this dilemma the more confused I became and ultimately ended up cursing my frustration.The phone vibrating on the table draws my frayed attention and I reach for it.

" _Yah Park Chanyeol_ you piece of shit! Didn't you promise that you would be here at 4pm sharp and it is already 4:10! Service is going to start in an hour and where the hell are you fooling around?" Jongdae screams over the bustling noise of the kitchen.

"Fuck, I totally lost track of time! Sorry Dae I will be there soon" I apologize and hurry out of the studio.

Mercifully, the roads are clear of the weekend traffic and I reach my destination in 10 minutes. Swinging the door open I dash straight to the closet where my mom keeps a spare uniform and earn a glare from an impatient Jongdae.

Quickly, I wear the standard white shirt, black slacks and sweep my messy hair to the side. Satisfied with the semblance of a tidy appearance I join Jongdae in organizing the chairs and tables. Placing the reserved placards on those already booked, I turn the closed sign to open.

"Welcome to Viva Polo what can I get you tonight?" I receive the first customer, flashing them my best salesman smile.

"For now we will have one Chicken Marinara and one Chicken Florentine pasta but afterwards can we have your number?" the girl in the yellow dress giggles and I struggle to maintain the initial optimism.

"Sorry ladies! This gentleman is taken" Jongdae comes to my rescue and I hook an arm around his waist to make it believable while they fume among themselves.

"You really ought to learn how to say no Yeol" Jongdae scolds sternly.

"Or we can have a strictly no flirting policy?" I propose earnestly and he whacks me before returning to the dining area.

Passing the order receipts through the counter connected to the cooking quarters I wait for the expediter to plate the food and arrange it on a tray. There is a continuous stream of people and the crowd is brutal.

Without a moment to rest we race back and forth carrying platters of aromatic dishes. By the time the clock strikes 9 p.m I am ready to drop dead from the sheer, bone crushing exhaustion. Constantly running around the place had drained all of my energy and I was sprawled lifeless on the floor when Jongdae flops down beside me.

"Dude how does your mom do this daily? She is literally prepping for tomorrow and I can barely stand straight" he groans massaging the painful cricks out of his tiny legs.

"Aside from the fact that she has years of experience under her belt I would guess it is mostly because she is superwoman" I answer stretching my sore muscles.

"Nonsense honey, I am just as active as anyone my age" she chides placing two, tall glasses of chocolate milkshake.

"Thank you mom" we chorus. Jongdae, Baekhyun, Kyungsoo and I have been friends since we were pint sized toddlers. We spent a great deal of our days wreaking havoc together and it was inevitable that our parents became friends as well. And before we knew it there were weekly barbecue parties, Sunday brunches with so many kids running around shouting _mom this, mom that_ , that we decided _mom_ would be a common phrase for all.

"Yeol! Switch" Jongdae urges pushing his shoe clad foot to my ribs, after hearing my loud appreciation for the cold drink.

"What? Why?" I whine and watch him over the rim of my tumbler happy, that he had fallen for the petty trick.

It was no secret Jongdae adored chocolates more than Brad loved Angelina and if you were to search the wardrobes in his room you would definitely unearth heaps of candies, toffees, almond bars and infinite other kinds of confectionery anticipating to be devoured. He dropped by the restaurant every morning to get his fix of cocoa and my mom was extremely generous while preparing it. I knew without a doubt his drink would have more chocolate and plotted to exchange it sneakily.

"Because yours looks more delicious" he pouts.

"How is that _possible_? We _literally_ got the same thing" I grumble.

"Shut up! Yours obviously has extra chocolate" he declares finally and trades our glasses.

"You are such an idiot" I chuckle.

"Says the guy who has been putting mustard sauce instead of mayonnaise in every dish" he snorts and I gape.

" _What the hell_? Seriously?" I yell trying to remember what I had been serving and sadly it was true.

"Asshole why didn't you stop me?" I crib, smacking my forehead.

"Excuse me I was busy tending to people and giving them their correct orders" he sasses, flipping me off.

"Did anyone complain about the service?" I worry, it could be a real loss.

"You should be grateful you were born with an attractive face, otherwise they would have demanded a refund" he scoffs.

"Nobody can resist all this fabulousness" I grin cockily and he rolls his eyes, unimpressed.

"Is there something you are hiding from me? You seem distracted" he probes and the curiosity is scarily palpable. It is impossible to escape his inquisition when he would probably badger me until I spilled the beans or subject me to a rigorous lie detector test.

"Taeyong and I fought" I murmur, suddenly interested in melting the cubes of ice in the empty pitcher.

"Yoda-ssi what have you done now?" he sighs.

"Why do you naturally assume that I did something wrong?" I cry, outraged that he thought I would purposefully antagonize another person.

"Because you are Park Dumb Chanyeol and also my dearest friend" he concludes, simpering proudly.

"Oh fuck off" I groan, half heartedly.

"What happened Yeol?" he prods, the concerned confidant making an appearance.

"I wish someone would tell me Dae. Something unusual happened in the studio last Monday when he heard the new demo and I was shocked but before I could say anything he ran away from there. Baekhyun told me that he cried and when I finally got the chance to ask him what it was that upset him, he called me stupid. He said I don't get him Dae and the worst part is, it is true. I don't understand what he wants from me and he has been avoiding me like the fucking plague" I wallow in bitterness.

"You can be _surprisingly dense_ Yeol. Can't you recognize what is right in front of you?" he guffaws mockingly. _So much_ for moral support.

"Like you are any better" I accuse and he coughs violently.

"What the fuck are you on about?" he croaks, rattled by the loaded statement.

"Bitch _please_! You think I don't notice you drooling all over Minnie Hyung or how you come out of the shower with the post sex glow, when you are alone?" I proclaim, abandoning the disclaimers. He beats his chest vigorously and tries to breathe through the mortification of being caught, I imagine.

"When the fuck have you seen that?" he wheezes, lashes dripping wet.

"Recently, when I was at your house hoping to escort you to your favorite band's concert. I was going to knock on the door but then you were moa-" Jongdae slaps his hand against my mouth forcefully and it stings.

"Don't say another godforsaken word if you value your miserable life" he threatens, head hanging low and I concede in pity.

"Jeez man you are insanely intense wherever Minnie Hyung is involved" I remark.

" _Chanyeol_ " he warns sharply.

"Alright Alright. But preferably you should confess soon or that fairy kid will cast his spell and sweep him off his feet" I caution seriously.

"Who the heck is that?" he roars displeased because of the fresh bit of information.

"He works for Minnie Hyung and he is adorable" I divulge and he bites his stubby nails.

"But you are the cutest" I quickly reassure and he struggles to hide the amusement.

"Okay that is enough from you. I honestly think you should talk to Taeyong when you've both calmed down. You will be surprised by what you learn" he winks shabbily.

"Fine" I mumble.

After cleaning the clutter we close the restaurant and travel towards our respective houses. I stop for some butterscotch ice cream at the nearby häagen dazs outlet and to my utter astonishment Taeyong stumbles from the store.

Excited, I signal to grab his attention but the wave goes unnoticed when another guy leans in to his tilted face. I stiffen and my rigid arms hang limply, sudden coldness settling in my stomach. Losing the appetite for Gelato I start the engine and clench the steering wheel so hard that my knuckles turn disturbingly pale.

When morning rolls around I am surly and averse to the notion of attending classes. I almost surrender to the impulse of sulking in my fortress of pillows like I had done during the whole weekend but the assignment I had to submit ruins the plan. Mr. Wang would most definitely give me detention for the rest of the semester and I could not risk that.

Grudgingly, I prepare myself mentally and physically to step inside the classroom that was five feet ahead of me but it seems impossible. Unfortunately when the teacher spots me I am escorted unwillingly and lose the chance to escape.

Taeyong sat next to the window, glum and unsociable. It was a combined session for the juniors and the sophomores. I settle in to the desk farthest from him and try to concentrate on what is being taught. It proves to be futile when my mind keeps wandering back to what I had witnessed. Fuming, I kick the bench but it startles the person beside me and I regret losing control.

"For the upcoming assessment you will need to perform a contemporary piano and dance piece. The composition and choreography is according to your discretion. I will be available if you require my guidance or further clarifications regarding the commission. The passing grade is B- and above. If any of you fail to attain the necessary percentage you will be removed from the attendance list and reassigned. To make this easier you have been grouped suitably hence kindly review the college website for your allocated partners" Mr. Wang announces and exits the study hall.

Immediately, I open the tab and pray with all my might for it not to be him. When the page loads, I nearly shatter my phone and destroy the evidence of the entire predicament.

Student Name: Park Chanyeol

Subject: Advanced Composition

Partner: _Lee Taeyong_

"I will miss you Park" the guy alongside me interject, going in search of his companions. After what seems like an eternity the bench clangs as someone arrives and I don't have to turn to know who it is but I am dumbfounded that he made the first move. We don't acknowledge each other and stubbornly maintain the awkward silence.

"We should begin" he mutters and the obvious displeasure for being forced in to this situation is practically vicious. A full minute passes while I regard him and I conclude this would be awful for the both of us.

"Taeyong we don't have to, I am sure this makes you tremendously uncomfortable and I will convince Mr. Wang to assign us different partners" I state and walk in the direction of the staff room.

The second floor is desolate as the third years are currently in a camping site far from Seoul and soon there are heavy footsteps echoing loudly.

"Did I tell you I hated being your partner? Did I object to being paired with you? Why are you always deciding things by yourself without even asking how I feel?" Taeyong yells.

"Then talk to me" I exclaim tired of beating around the bush.

" _No_ " he retorts adamantly and that refusal is the fuel to the fire.

The doubts that were bothering and nagging me transformed to pure, withering irritation. I grab his bony wrist and drag him into the deserted classroom, closing the latch behind. I had reached my limit due to the back and forth and had no intention of leaving deprived of the answers I sought. His body hits the wall painfully and I release him.

" _Tell me what you want Taeyong_ " I enunciate each word.

"No" he snaps and attempts to unlock the shut entrance.

"For the love of God" I snarl and securely pin his wrists together.

"I want you to let go of me" he grunts, thrashing.

"No" I mimc his previous response.

"Why the hell won't you? I have nothing to say to you" he shrieks infuriated.

"Taeyong calm down. I just want to know what is upsetting you" I implore, patiently.

 

**TAEYONG'S POV**

 

"Why can't I be mad whenever I please whether there is a reason or not?" I huff and the pettiness unnerves me.

"So you do admit that you are furious because of me?" Sunbae gloats as if this was his victory.

"I don't care to talk about it" I repeat obstinately and that vexes him. Indignant, he scowls harshly and tightens the already excruciating grip on my wrists. That would bruise a wonderful shade of purple.

"First you confuse the fuck out of me, then you run away from me and when I am genuinely concerned, you yell at me to your heart's content. For fucks sake tell me what you want from me Taeyong and I will give it to you" he asserts and I can see the restraint slipping.

Somehow the tables have turned and I am the evil person. No matter what happens Sunbae would never understand that I love him and hiding that was becoming harder than I ever imagined. I need to put an end to this once and for all. If he couldn't realize the truth after everything then the hope I am willfully protecting is pointless and agonizing.

"This" I confess, launching myself forward until our lips are slotted closely. It is a nervous brush and a timid sweep but it is enough to destroy me.

I am _kissing_ him.

I am kissing _Chanyeol Sunbae_.

I had fantasized about this for ages but nothing could compare to the time-stopping and euphoric reality.

His full, pink mouth is lusciously inviting and in that moment the years of yearning threatens to burst forth in great waves and expose my true motive. Sunbae's fists have unconsciously weakened and if I weren't breaking apart I would have found it extremely comical.

"But I bet you haven't even thought of me that way. I will always be your damn hoobae and you will always be the oblivious-" I chuckle self deprecatingly and he cuts me off.

The next thing I realize Sunbae has slammed his warm lips to mine and practically knocks all the wind from my lungs. The squeal of shock is crushed in my straining wind pipe while he threw me against the writing board and I am so unprepared I latched onto his angular shoulders.

His large, veined hand glide to my jutting hipbones and he pulled me closer. I gasp brokenly and my knees buckle underneath. Sunbae sensed my struggle and lifted me high, wrapping my quivering legs around his waist.

I moan lewdly when my hardening member grazes his chiseled stomach and hook my arms along his arched neck. I have to breathe but I am afraid that if I do I would awake from this beautiful dream. Ignoring my thundering heart's plea for oxygen, I reciprocated fervently and long for more.

We were bound so tightly that I could feel the rapid falling and rising of his strong chest. My hands roam unhindered, memorizing the flexing muscles and hardened biceps that would taunt me relentlessly.

Unbuttoning, his grey shirt I explore Sunbae's sculpted torso that haunted me during the lonely nights when I had to satisfy my thirst, hungrily. He growled his approval and carried me to the sprawling, center desk, positioning me gently.

"Fuck Tae, you taste so fucking sweet" he groans nibbling the skin beneath my bare jaw and I am driven insane. The reddened flesh would bloom in to visible hickeys tomorrow, reminding me of the person who had left these marks and I would ache for him just as much as I did now.

Sunbae's palms slide under my sweatshirt bunching it upwards until it lay discarded by the door. I shiver uncontrollably while our mouths chase each other unable to bear the scant distance. He draws soothing circles on the exposed surface of my body, leaving fire in his wake and I pant hopelessly.

He uses the opening to plunge into my mouth, owning and possessing the cavern in a way I never thought possible. Immediately, I am filled with the taste of cinnamon and something distinctly him. I savour it and dig the heels of my feet into his back drawing him nearer.

" _Sunbae_ " I moan when he bites my lower lip and releases it, connecting us with a thin trail of saliva. The sight in front of me is heaven; Sunbae's messy hair, heaving chest and his pupils blown wide in pleasure.

"Stunning" he whispers almost astounded and peppered kisses across my torso.

I curved into the touch when his tongue lapped over my nipples teasingly and grasped his hair. He sank his teeth over the peaked buds and blew cool air on them. I failed to suppress the pitchy scream and blush crimson when he smirked at the lusty reaction. He cupped my ass and slid his thumbs inside the waistband of my boxers.

"Sunbae _stop_ " I stutter but he didn't and instead deepened the intoxicating kiss.

"Why?" he hums when I retreat to draw in a shaky breath.

"Because I can't think" I whine, caressing his auburn locks.

"That is the point" he grins, nipping my ear lobes and it is so distracting.

"Sunbae please I need to tell you something" I gasp, under his arousing touch.

"I am listening" he murmurs pecking my collar bones and I am dazed.

"Sunbae I like you" I blurt deciding to take the leap and that stalls him. His already wide eyes stretch further and I am wracked with worry.

"What?" he splutters and I wonder whether I made the right choice.


	10. Nightmares and Bruises

Anger had always been a willing companion of mine for as long as I could remember and more often than not, it had become my first choice rather than a last resort. Surging in an erratic and tumultuous manner, it almost sank the traces of my floundering rationality underneath. The sharp and stifling pinch of my throat failed the words that wished to maim and shame. It swayed my judgement and spurred on the fairly reckless decisions.

 

Under the billowing cloud of fury I was adept at assuming the worst in everyone and heedlessly embellishing their most unfavorable acts. It was the remorseless brand of truth that provoked my callous demeanor and I hadn't a thought to spare for those who had provoked such unforgiving ire.

 

I hated it.

 

I absolutely loathed being so blindsided by displeasure and disappointment that I failed to differentiate the right from the wrong. It made me feel weak, powerless and inevitably guilty.

 

After having taken great pains to bridle this belligerent and snarky temperament I realized, Mr. Oh could easily make visiting the shrink a regular occurrence with his insufferable attitude. Surely, his true talent lay in trying even the patience of a Saint and slyly goading people over the ledge of their dwindling sanity.

 

Our absurd dynamic was such that, Mr. Oh played the role of an arrogant pianist and I his wretched piano. He pressed the exact keys to produce the most jarring and bitter melodies.

 

In the movies, those deep breaths the damsels in distress took to restrain their emotions or the numbers they counted from backwards praying and appealing for composure, never quite had the same magical effect on me. I was left imploring the heavens for their compassion and kindness in protecting me from 6 feet demons that wore Louis Vuitton Oxfords.

 

Escaping from the sweltering atmosphere of the room had been my original intention, however, it drove me to roam around in an unfamiliar hotel teeming with strangers. Confused, I regard my surroundings to better understand where my reckless escapades had led to and spot the outdoor swimming pools that our suite had a clear view of.

 

Scratch that, Mr. Oh's suite, since clearly I would be banned from entering, following the wildest and dramatic exit of the century. Not that I was remotely apologetic or capable of remorse. Oh Sehun can wade in his ego, wallow in his pride and wither in his own anger for all the fucks I could muster.

 

The illuminated water laps restlessly and I am disgruntled to notice the unnerving resemblance in our states. My turmoil lingered inwards and hidden from sight whereas its disturbance lies outside. This sobers the remaining petulance instantly and my shoulders sag in quiet resignation. I despised not winning an argument just as much as having one to begin with.

 

Slowly, the fight drains from me and I wonder whether in hindsight it was necessary to react that harshly to Rafael's blatant attempt at causing trouble. I should have probably cursed him to a karmic destiny of sucking Bill Cosby's balls eternally and gone about minding my business.

 

Too meek, my subconscious quips indignantly; ever the portrait of an insolent diva.

 

If Mr. Oh had the decency to hide the clip like he was meant to, then all of this wouldn't have happened in the first place and I needn't have burst several blood vessels in the process. I assumed we had a silent agreement on how the video would remain buried, provided I kept making A- grades in the weekly assessments but apparently not.

 

He had blatantly ignored the semi vague promise and revealed its existence to Beanpole aka unnecessarily tall twatface. Granted, the likelihood of me scoring an A- in his subject was as likely as the chance of pigs flying but not being given the benefit of the doubt had bruised my self confidence.

 

The video would have eventually surfaced, presuming, Mr. Oh's threat had been serious and I was preparing for the scenario to unfold but the absolute lack of faith in my abilities hurt. Especially after he had made the effort to ensure I received private lessons from Mr. Zhang and Jongin directly. If he did not trust me to respect my end of the promise why did he bother?

 

He had worsened the situation by lashing back and hurling unwanted accusations. Of the both of us, it is obvious he was more level headed than I, but the previous encounter had shown me how scathing his own frustration could be and how little he cared for the consequences it wreaked.

 

His statements had been brash and unexpectedly scary. I reckon, I did sell my soul to the devil itself to retain my position in the Academy but was it really worth the trade, when it gave Mr. Oh the pretext to think he somehow owned me until my debts were fully paid?

 

It gnawed at my conscience and I had to reconsider the sheer amount of patience I was forced to exercise in keeping my shit emotionally and mentally together.

 

Honestly, I had stopped attending regular classes in the University and I certainly hadn't stepped anywhere within the vicinity of the college in ages. However, I didn't feel as though I was sacrificing anything in return. In fact, I had weekly tutoring sessions in YJ Entertainment and Mr. Zhang had already drafted a detailed study plan for me seeing how my temporary stint with Mr. Oh would interfere in my normal coursework.

 

Maybe, I had gotten those 100 per cent power up cards in the game and all for free. I mean not entirely free, since my forbearance and survival hung in the balance.

 

Could I possibly buy my way out of this?

 

I had never actually considered the prospect of simply buying him another scarf given the fear that my offer could have belittled the sentimental value it held for him and given him plenty of excuses to put me in an aquarium infested with blood thirsty sharks.

 

He might very well annihilate Byun Baekhyun for merely suggesting such an outrageous idea but I couldn't bring myself to care enough. He seemed hell bent on finding faults in everything I did or said and if I had the chance to put an end to that, why shouldn't I? I would be saving us the trouble of resorting to these meaningless scuffles and incessant cold war.

 

The problem was, the only time I had ever seen the scarf, sent straight from the seventh circle of hell, was when he had worn it to the club and the rest of the incident had earned a special niche in my dark history of drunken mistakes.

 

There had been no lights in the VIP section during our fated encounter and coincidentally I was two sheets to the wind. I was so far gone in the haze of alcohol, I went about announcing I was a bloody swinger and awoken the next day to hoards of texts from random numbers wondering when we could schedule our Ménage à trois or the dinner party with many suggestive winks.

 

Safe to say, I hadn't witnessed that many vaginas or dicks in vivid detail.

 

Ideally, I preferred not having to relive that macabre experience and finding a less embarrassing fix to the woe of my existence.

 

Racking my brains I try to remember snippets of the pattern and the color, at the least but draw a pointless blank. I couldn’t complain when my memory was about as useful as diet water- excessively hopeless.

 

Perhaps there were pictures?

 

The question is where I could find them, when Mr. Oh lived like a relatively medieval human being and snubbed all social media platforms. Somewhere in California Mark Zuckerberg wept.

 

The whole reason the universe is aware of his appearance is due to round the clock surveillance by the unshakeable paparazzi and his avid fan sites. There were men and women on the mission to unveil the cloak of mystery Mr. Oh was shrouded in.

 

Fan sites...

 

That's it!

 

They practically followed him everywhere and documented his every move, I'll be damned if they didn't know about his visit to the club. There are thousands of suggestions when I type Sehun in Instagram's search box and spoilt for choice, I pick a random one, the taste of victory looming in the air.

 

A single white post greets me and I expand the plain image despite my disappointment. The caption mentions a link attached beneath and an explanatory message from the admin,

 

"Sorry lovelies I have decided to deactivate this account temporarily but to those who remain interested, kindly follow this fan girl at her backup to stay updated on our stunning CEO Oh Sehun

 

XOXO"

 

I open the link in a new tab and instantly the page is filled with squared picture icons. The top, left corner of the screen grabs my attention instinctively and I drop the phone as if it were made of hot coals.

 

Outrageous, Atrocious, Appalling and downright scandalous - are the most harmless words I would use to describe the username. Squinting, through the pained tears I recheck whether I had read it right and when Sehunsglitteryanus is still displayed almost innocently my suspicions are confirmed.

 

I hadn't ever contemplated the purpose of my birth and existence in the same day until this precise moment.

 

Somewhere between nausea and hyperventilation I realize how naive I was to assume that my task would be fairly tame and above board. Mr. Oh’s fans were hardcore and faithfully dedicated to worshiping each part of him, regardless of where that particular part was located.

 

Had I lived thus far to witness this positively horrific nightmare?

 

What had the world come to?

 

What was normal anymore?

 

Who in God's name was interested in Mr. Oh's..Mr. Oh's... Mr. Oh's- Dear God were these the kind of thoughts people had when they saw him? Did they go like,

 

“Hey Susan, do you think Sehun's you-know-what is bedazzled?”

 

“God Janice, do you have to sound so pleb? Of course it is, haven’t you seen my fan page?”

 

I utter a string of mildly blasphemous yet graphic curses and the middle aged man in the pool throws me nasty looks. My mortification only increases when I feel the lewd temptation of peeking again and I understand why the curiosity killed the cat.

 

It wasn't fun being the cat but neither was sitting seconds away from clinching your currently invaded freedom for the sake of your virginal morals regarding your hot boss.

 

Shakily, I reload the link, pondering how many people would get second hand embarrassment from watching me struggling to scroll downwards until the name is hidden. There are hundreds of photos from the same day in different angles, different lighting and by the time I find the pictures of him entering or exiting the club I feel like I have memorized every feature of Mr. Oh so starkly and copiously that I could sketch him with my eyes closed.

 

Who knew that I hadn't noticed the tiny scar on his cheek till now after being in his arms thrice? Maybe my eyes had been busy elsewhere.

 

Cropping the scarf from the screenshot I attach the picture in Google Images and there are hundreds of related and unrelated results. One headline flashes prominently and my phone nearly drowns in the deep end of the pool. Holy Mother of Fuck!

 

What had I done?!

 

What the actual fuck had I done?!

 

The scarf was one of the 30 silk scarves designed by the legendary, French artist Henri Matisse and auctioned for a whopping four million dollars to the Media mogul Oh Hyesoon aka The Chairwoman.

 

I couldn't even count how many zeros a million had much less four of them. Numb with shock I attempt to digest this but it is next to impossible when it dawns on me that I had thrown four dollars’ worth beer on four million.

 

I mean how doomed does a person have to be to ruin the priceless scarf worn by his boss which coincidentally was gifted to him by his dearest mother? The man hardly accepted such gestures but the one, rare occasion he had decided to be gracious about his strict policy, I fling my Zen like calmness off the bridge and make a point through cheap beer. Wow.

 

If there were ever a meter for measuring bad luck, then the needle would go past the maximum level in my case. I was unfortunately unfortunate.

 

How was I ever going to repay Mr. Oh, if at all? A year of being his assistant wouldn't cover a fraction of the cost and it was driving me insane.

 

Who the heck gave someone expensive relics as gifts? Granted, mothers went overboard in pampering their children but this went above and beyond. I couldn't comprehend why it was so ridiculously pricey and extravagant unless Robert Downey Jr. had pissed on it.

 

Giving up, I settle down against the chaise lounge and struggle to get comfortable. Returning to the suite was not an option and renting another room was laughable given my empty coffers. This chair would have to do until morning arrived with my ticket back to Seoul.

 

After a night spent soaking in my sober regrets, I am reluctantly strapping the seat belt across my lap and doing my utmost to ignore Mr. Oh altogether, who for his part seems unaffected by the cold shoulder.

 

I hadn't expected anything less from the Ice Queen of the century.

 

The flight attendant reels the catering trolley to our seats and I politely decline the breakfast he begins serving. It looked sumptuous without a flicker of doubt but I would have to starve. I had a point to prove and I reckoned open rebellion was the way to go. The vigorous refusal finally garners Mr. Oh's attention and his brows rise in unison, skeptically.

 

"Mr. Byun it is bad faith to refuse the food that is offered to you" he half drawls and half chastises.

 

"I have lost my appetite Mr. Oh" I retort mulishly and to my chagrin he chuckles.

 

"I believe you have forsaken your hunger in exchange for throwing a tantrum" he muses, the supercilious expression driving the accusation too close to my real agenda.

 

"And I believed Mr. Oh was a man of his word if not considerate towards others but it seems like we are both destined to be wrong" I quickly interject, my sarcasm notched higher than usual.

 

"Ethan could you kindly tell the pilot to enjoy Mr. Byun's portion? It would appear he's rather full of himself to have space for anything else" Mr. Oh smiles disarmingly at the blushing boy and I scoff louder than I intended to.

 

Incorrigible asshole.

 

“Yes Ethan, please do, I have had my fill of nonsense thanks to Mr. Oh” I quip, annoyed.

 

“You are being childish Mr. Byun” he sighs and I glare scornfully. I was on the offense mode and here he was, comparing my defiance to adolescent outbursts. Did I have to win a Nobel for this man to take me seriously?

 

“We wouldn't be having this whole conversation if I was being childish Mr. Oh” I remark snidely and slot the ear phones in, shutting him out completely.

 

When the flight lands in the airport, pain throbs violently around my skull and I wonder why it didn't just crack open. My stomach heaves threateningly and every step intensifies the rhythm of blood pounding in my temple. Apparently, listening to heavy metal music for two hours constantly whilst planning the detailed execution of your boss, posed a health hazard.

 

Thankfully, the cab I had booked arrived earlier than the given ETA and I slink away quietly, foregoing a goodbye that would inevitably lead to another unsettling confrontation.

 

I practically salivate imagining the soft comforter draped over me and the unbelievably fluffy pillows welcoming me to my bed after I guzzled a bottle of water with some much needed Aspirin.

 

However, before I can accomplish the task my mother's superhuman agility allows her to ambush me in the foyer in all of three seconds; concern and worry written across her face.

 

“Honey, are you all right? You look haggard” she frets gripping my elbows.

 

Well, mother this is what happens when you spend the whole night on a deck chair in nothing but a suit and an abundance of remorse.

 

“Sleepy. Tired. Headache” I groan, drowsy and brutally exhausted. I had made everything worse by trading dinner and breakfast for a standoff with Mr. Oh.

 

“Of course, of course” she gasps shooing me towards the room and that is the last thing I remember as unconsciousness sweeps me at the foot of my bed frame. When I am awakened it is by the relentless blaring of my alarm tone and I crawl forward, legs tangling in a mess of blankets and half discarded pants.

 

Blissful silence greets me after I smother the unholy contraption and I shudder when the crisp morning air breezes in steadily. Good Lord, I had slept through an entire day without stirring once and now I was awfully late for work.

 

Releasing a guttural groan of defeat, I finish my daily routine in record time and rush downstairs summoning every deity known to mankind for a divine intervention. I could even handle a narrow hit and run accident to avoid Mr. Oh and his clever remarks, which were in complete honesty barbs, about my tardiness.

 

“Bye Mom, Bye Dad, Bye Minseokiki” I screech quickly running past the kitchen, but a sharp,

 

“Byun Baekhyun” in my father’s rumbling voice stops me cold in my tracks.

 

Was I in trouble?

 

Did they discover the truth of my Hong Kong trip?

 

“Daddy I have to go” I whine stomping my feet impatiently.

 

“Baekhyunnie you ought to be mindful about such things” he scolds brushing aside transparent, soap suds from my tousled mop of an excuse for hair.

 

“Oops! I’ll be more careful” I giggle and toss in a brisk salute.

 

Quarter of an hour later I stall in front of Mr. Oh’s office, panting like I had ran the longest marathon in Seoul and decided to climb the stairs to the Namsan Tower. Creeping inside his unusually freezing office I am baffled for the nth time at the lack of a sign on the door warning ‘Abandon hope all ye who enter here’.

 

I am preparing to be hauled over the proverbial coals or strung above volcanic pits but to my utter surprise the chair behind the ornate, mahogany desk is unoccupied and the man in question is nowhere to be seen. Perturbed, I study the folder containing his schedule and notice none of the changes that could account for his unannounced leave.

 

This is strange. Was Mr. Oh playing hooky?

 

If I had learnt anything while working for Mr. Oh, was that he absolutely hated wasting even a minute of his business day.

 

“My stocks plunged and I lost thousands of dollars as you debated your poor life choices Mr. Byun” he would hark whenever he caught me staring into space.

 

I walk down to the third floor towards Rafael’s cabin hoping to glean Mr. Oh’s exact whereabouts from him and the giant jumps comically at my abrupt entrance.

 

“Where is Mr. Oh?” I wheeze in between my chortles.

 

“You are his secretary Mr. Byun and I would expect you to apprise me of his presence or his absence” he scowls unimpressed and I clutch my sides to contain the bubbling laughter.

 

“He's not in his office and I have no clue beyond that” I snicker.

 

“Your job is to be informed before you are informed Mr. Byun” he tsks exasperatedly.

 

“Do you or do you not know where he is?” I frown vexed by his unwarranted preaching.

 

“I may or may not” he mentions propping his shoe clad feet on the table and I almost blind him with the pepper spray in my pocket.

 

“Can you stop being cryptic? The Jason Bourne act doesn’t suit you” I snort.

 

“These papers must be signed and sealed within this evening Mr. Byun. You better find him” he declares sliding the brown envelope across the table.

 

“You are absolutely unhelpful. How am I supposed to know precisely where he would be? We aren’t telepathically connected Rafael” I grumble retrieving the documents.

 

“After that giggle fest you had at my expense I am disinclined to help you Mr. Byun” he smirks.

 

“Ugh I cannot believe you’re the sperm that won in the end” I exclaim and leave in search of Mr. Oh.

 

I had never met him outside of the company neither had we shared any details that weren’t related to business. I didn’t know where the man lived or where he went after he left work.

 

For Christ's Sakes he could be in Apgujeong or Gangnam or Jamsil or Sinsa or anywhere else in Seoul.

 

Only one person could solve the mystery.

 

“Hello, is Mr. Jung inside?” I ask the woman who exits his office. Was this Aunt Priscilla? A closer look reveals she is too young to be anyone’s aunt, much less Mr. Jung’s.

 

“I’m sorry he is in a meeting currently but you can wait in his cabin. He won’t be long” she answers in the shrillest voice I had ever heard and I cover my ears instinctively.

 

“Heiran what did we discuss yesterday?” Mr. Jung questions, appearing from the elevator.

 

“I forgot Mr. Jung” she chuckles just as jarringly and we wince collectively.

 

“Baekhyun this is my new secretary Kang Heiran. She was a soprano in the opera for two years before she had to quit because of vocal nodules” Mr. Jung introduces. That explains it.

 

“Nice to meet you sir” she trills, bowing.

 

“Likewise Miss. Kang” I return her enthusiastic greeting.

 

“What did you need me for Baekhyunnie?” Mr. Jung grins ushering me into his cabin and I steel myself against the pushing.

 

“I just need to know whether you know where Mr. Oh is” I interject not willing to prolong this debacle longer than necessary.

 

“I’ll be damned if he isn’t in his office” he replies confidently.

 

“Then you shall be damned” I affirm, slightly amused.

 

“Unbelievable. Did they open a bubble tea store nearby?” he simpers, enjoying an inside joke.

 

“How is that relevant?” I whine realizing Mr. Jung might be a dead end after all.

 

“That’s a story for another day minx” he deflects.

 

"Another nickname?" I groan.

 

"What can I say Baekhyunnie? You're feisty" he smiles smugly.

 

“Alright. I’ll see you later Mr. Jung” I bid him farewell.

 

“Why do you have to meet him?” Mr. Jung queries, puzzled.

 

“His signatures are required for the revised contracts of Berkshire Holdings” I answer holding the envelope for his scrutiny.

 

“Can they wait? Sehun is never not here and if he isn’t here it definitely means he doesn’t wish to be” he observes pragmatically.

 

“Rafael said they had to be delivered by the evening and Miss Sunshine doesn't exaggerate anything except the number of his brain cells” I note.

 

"Miss Sunshine?" Mr. Jung enquires incredulously.

 

"I'm better at giving people nicknames" I concede.

 

“It is extremely, extremely important that he is kept in the dark about how you got this” he instructs suddenly.

 

“Who and what?” I probe and he heaves a tired sigh scribbling on the sticky pad.

 

“Sehun's address” he utters, slipping me the page.

 

“Will the guards allow me? This is my first time” I speculate, dubious.

 

“Guards? There will be none but…” he stops midway and makes a phone call.

 

“Suho it’s me, Yunho. Hmm Yeah, Uh-uh, totally, let’s meet for a drink in the weekend. Hey I’m going to cash in on that favor for his house passcode” he speaks and the conversation proceeds seemingly reluctantly thereafter as the other man expresses his unwillingness to part with the said information.

 

Finally Mr. Jung succeeds and few minutes elapse in silence while Mr. Jung twirls the slip, squeamish.

 

“What happens if Mr. Oh miraculously discovers that Mr. Jung gave me this?” I muse prying the paper from his resisting fingers.

 

“Anything ranging from a Hannibal Lecter style dinner party to a bloody massacre” he admits with unusual seriousness and that garners my sympathy.

 

“Well good luck then” I thank and leave him to his fate.

 

The unapologetically urban cityscape grows farther away and the sheltered camellias, gnarled camphor trees, oaks, alders, zelkovas replace the city planted blooms. Glassed monoliths of concrete soaring out of the ground in architectural patterns are forgotten amongst the state of the art manors, French styled chateaus and charming villas.

 

Landscaped yards, lush gardens and unbelievably large water fountains dot the residences on either side of the pavements. The hundreds of sprinklers going off by the minute to feed the exotic flowers are a testament to the wealthy and fashionable neighborhood we were in.

 

The taxi halts in front of the splendid mansion that looked like it had travelled through the time and I gawk blatantly. Could this man get anymore outrageous and lavish? I think not.

 

Large, iron gates open automatically and I walk in hesitantly, afraid of finding the next fancy thing that would alter my opinion of the world in general.

 

Carved wooden doors fortify the entrance and I wonder whether they were as impenetrable as their master. I type the pass code into the electric lock on the side and it beeps loudly in confirmation.

 

Ambling inside timidly, I expect to be scolded by Mr. Oh any second but when I have barged inside ten rooms without being interrupted, I turn bold and adventurous.

 

I dance a duet with the imposing statue of a galloping horse, gorge on decadent pieces of chocolates placed conveniently in the bowls, wear three different bathrobes and eventually get tired after punching sandbags in the gym area.

 

As I reach one of the last two rooms in the second floor I realize Mr. Oh might not be home and I may have trespassed onto his property. Yikes talk about living life dangerously.

 

"Pardon the intrusion" I announce before entering; my only act of courtesy since I fixed the bed I ruined in the first room.

 

In my defence the mattress was bouncy and irresistibly entertaining.

 

Before I know it I am tackled to the ground by a white ball of fur and blood curdling screams escape my mouth. Cold wetness slides against my cheek repeatedly and two black orbs flit excitedly. I push frantically but something sharp latches onto my cuff.

 

"Please don't kill me" I pray desperately to the assailant.

 

"Woof woof woof" comes the excited bark and I freeze. A pink tongue trails big slobbery kisses and I carefully disentangle the ecstatic, furry animal.

 

"You're not the 8 foot monster I feared" I reveal sheepishly to the pup.

 

"Woof" the dog barks, unimpressed. Mr. Oh's pet indeed.

 

"Alright, Alright. Where did you come from you pretty little baby? Did this bad man kidnap you?" I coo scratching his fluffy ears but the hound barks insistently and circles around me.

 

"What is it baby? Are you hungry?" I ask standing straight and the dog simply drags me forward by biting the hem of my pant. Painful keens echo from the middle of the room and startled I stumble forwards haphazardly.

 

"Mr. Oh?" I gasp when I see the sleeping form curled and trembling on the bed.

 

He is panting feverishly and his entire face is covered in a thin sheen of sweat. Tangled sheets are coiled across his body uncomfortably and the pillow is soaked in perspiration like the rest of his clothes.

 

Mr. Oh's face is a mask of agony and the obvious suffering constricts my throat. Even though he is fast asleep, he somehow looks as if he is in a world of pain. His brows are deeply furrowed, and his breathing is sporadic, failing to fall into a peaceful pattern.

 

"Mr. Oh please wake up" I stammer, touching his arm tentatively.

 

"No, no, no don't leave" he screams, clawing the sheets and thrashing violently. The action momentarily displaces my concern but when a large tear drop slides down the corner of his eye it becomes sympathy. He was hurting.

 

I disregard my previous reservations and unfurl Mr. Oh's fingers slowly. They unhook themselves from the bedspread and lock onto my hand instead. I wince when his nails scrape the back of my palm and use my free hand to wipe the sweat coating his forehead. Mr. Oh is very cold and the low temperature of the AC was not helping.

 

I tuck him within the duvet he had discarded and he whimpers miserably. There is a pang in my heart when he pulls the hand he is holding until it is lodged between his arms and against his chest. Whoever he thought I was, must have been close to Mr. Oh otherwise he wouldn't allow this proximity.

 

"Please don't, ple-ase don't leave" he begs brokenly and I have never felt so hopelessly lost.

 

He needed someone who couldn't be by his side and there was nothing I could do to help him. The devastation he is experiencing is difficult to witness and I ache to offer Mr. Oh some sort of comfort.

 

"I'm here" I lie not knowing what else to say. He continues murmuring incoherently and the pain is evident in everything he mumbles.

 

Mr. Oh's hold doesn't slacken and eventually I have to lower myself to my knees and twist my body to make it easier for the both of us. Stroking his hair, I hum a tune my mother sang when hyung and I were younger.

 

Minseok hyung used to have nightmares every night from when he was 10 years old. The first time I saw him writhing in his sleep I had run to my parents sobbing in terror but seeing them distraught I understood how important it was to comfort him rather than being scared.

 

After watching him suffer for days I decided if I couldn't protect him from those invisible nightmares then I would live through them with him. My mum always said hyung loved lullabies and I would sing him the rhymes I learnt in school until hyung fell asleep peacefully. I made it a habit to slept next to him until hyung started high school and had to kick me off his bed because he stopped being scared of his night terrors.

 

A while later the crying subsides and Mr. Oh snores softly. Choosing to let him sleep longer, I free myself and collapse onto the floor, petting the patiently waiting dog. Throat parched, I walk towards the kitchen to drink water and rest on the island chair while the pup happily eats from the bowl labelled Vivi.

 

"Vivi-yah your dad is a mean but troubled man isn't he? I don't know if I should pity him or act like nothing happened. This is confusing and...sad, so sad" I sigh upset over what I had witnessed.

 

Something about Mr. Oh's vulnerable display of grief had weakened me and I did not want to bother getting the signatures I came for. I wanted to leave and forget the entire incident but the documents were too important to neglect. I would have to wait for Mr. Oh.

 

The PlayStation console dominates the center of the hall with stacks of video games and I settle for Call Of Duty: Black Ops 4. Immersed in the game I abandon the responsibility of babysitting Vivi and the pup is nowhere to be spotted. Anxiously, l call his name but Vivi doesn't respond and the quiet is unnerving.

 

Wandering through the house, I land in front of the door separated from the others and barrel in before I can debate how the act violates Mr. Oh's privacy.

 

It is an enormous room filled with old paintings and artwork; the kind which are meant to be flaunted in the museum. The lights are dim and the brown curtains are closed but that doesn't deter me from exploring.

 

I ogle each frame in rapture but the lone portrait that catches my interest is hanging from the blue ceiling by the golden chain. It is of a younger Mr. Oh, maybe in his early teens and a beautiful, blonde haired boy.

 

What is astonishing in the portrait is not the way Mr. Oh is embracing the guy securely but the grin he sported, stretching from ear to ear as if he hadn't a care in the world. He seemed full of life and laughter while the other man gazed at him in elation.

 

I had never seen Mr. Oh smile much less laugh in pure bliss. Curiously, I step closer and observe the other boy. Large, doe eyes crinkled in delight and soft wavy hair framed the either side of his small, elfish face. A pretty twinkle graced his pouty lips and highlighted the arching cheekbones. He was overwhelmingly stunning and could urge the protective instincts in anyone.

 

Was this the person Mr. Oh begged not to leave?

 

If so why did Mr. Oh have the picture where they definitely appeared happy when in reality it was very different?

 

Who was he and what relationship did he have with Mr. Oh?

 

The more this question swirled around in my mind the more sour and sullen I felt. It was weird but I was oddly resentful of the joy reflected in the portrait. How could he make Mr. Oh this happy when the man couldn't even stand my mere presence?

 

Abruptly, I am jerked backwards and thrown against the corner wall forcefully. My cheek crashes sickeningly and my vision swims as tears pool in reaction to the pain. A large palm holds my face pressed in that position and the arm Mr. Oh was clutching is twisted behind my back in a painful and weird angle.

 

I groan when the person caging me purposefully shakes me in such a way that my body slams harder into the wall again. The grip on my wrist is tightened and I feel like it will snap in half if it were twisted a second longer.

 

"Let me go" I grunt in agony and there are crippling stabs of discomfort.

 

"Mr. Byun?" I distantly hear Mr. Oh's incredulous query.

 

Tears had started to pour with blind abandon and I clamped my mouth shut to avoid the sobs that sought to escape.

 

"What are you doing here Mr. Byun?" Mr. Oh asks, suspicious.

 

"Let me go" I whimper and finally the situation dawns on him.

 

Mr. Oh releases the agonizing clench and I crumple to the floor, carefully cradling my injured wrist. It was beginning to color a nasty shade of purple and I dreaded having broken a bone from the unpleasant crunch I heard earlier.

 

"Mr. Byun who gave you the password?" Mr. Oh grills, tone irritated and my mood plunges dangerously.

 

"What is wrong with you?" I grit out trying and failing to control my rising anger.

 

"Excuse me?" he replies, displeased.

 

"I said what is wrong with you?" I repeat, unruffled by the scathing glare.

 

"I could ask you the same question Mr. Byun, for trespassing into my property without my permission" he points exasperatedly.

 

"You are unbelievable" I chuckle humorlessly. "And you are insubordinate" he snaps.

 

"Oh for fucks sake! I wouldn't be here if not for you and I certainly wouldn't have stayed if you weren't..if you weren't" I falter unwilling to reveal the state I had seen him in.

 

"If I wasn't what Mr. Byun?" he muses nonchalantly.

 

"That's not the point! You were supposed to be in the office and sign the damn papers. Taking a leave of absence without even telling your own secretary burdens everyone" I steer the conversation.

 

"It is my company Mr. Byun and I don't need to tell anyone, anything. Specially not you" he glowers menacingly.

 

"You know what? Fine. You can it your way Mr. Oh, I fucking give up!" I retort, leaving the room hastily. I was tired of everything and wanted nothing more than to get away.

 

"For once I would appreciate it if you could do your job properly" Mr. Oh rebukes, grabbing my injured hand and I cry involuntarily.

 

"Why are you always doing this to me? What have I done to deserve this kind of treatment from you? I know I ruined the fucking scarf from your precious mother but I didn't mean to!" I yell losing it completely.

 

"Mr. Byun don't dig a deeper hole for yourself" he warns.

 

"Since the day we met, you have made my life hellish in all the possible ways and I honestly don't know why you hate me so much Mr. Oh. Why make me work for you if you can't stand the sight of me? If money is what you want from me then I will pay it back. Every single cent" I assert stubbornly.

 

"Mr. Byun you are forgetting your place" Mr. Oh fumes discarding any notion of patience.

 

"I can't do this anymore Mr. Sehun. This might come as shocking to you but I am human too. I have feelings and believe it or not you are fully capable of hurting them. I cannot work for someone who despises me to this extent. You are free to do whatever you wish- expel me from the Academy, sue me, fire me or better yet I quit" I stammer unsteadily and gaze at his stoic expression hoping he had understood how unnecessarily he had hurt me and when I see no difference I reach for the door handle.

 

"Sorry" the single apology is faint and I almost don't hear it being uttered.

 

"What?" I sputter in disbelief.

 

Mr. Oh strides forward silently and grasps the injured hand in his. I resist instantly, afraid he would make the bruise worse but his clasp turns firm and determined. He brushes his long fingers above the swollen skin lightly and inspects the damage wearing a persistent frown.

 

"This needs bandaging Mr. Byun, I sprained it pretty badly" he sighs absentmindedly.

 

"I can do it myself Mr. Oh" I murmur, dazed but he halts my clumsy retreat.

 

"In your state I cannot see that happening Mr. Byun, I have inconvenienced your dominant hand" he avers, pulling me along.

 

The warm tiled bathroom is brightly lit unlike the rest of the house and Mr. Oh nudges me gently to sit on the ledge of the bathtub. He busies himself, rummaging in the ornate cabinets and I am beyond dumbfounded at his behavior.

 

The smell of vanilla and cinnamon clings to the air and I recognize Mr. Oh's perfume, the familiar scent reinstating the ridiculousness of the situation.

 

Was this a dream I was experiencing in an alternate universe or an hallucination conjured from my muddled brain? Both were possible considering that I did smack my head hard.

 

It was as if Mr. Oh's personality had done a complete 180 and another soul had replaced his. He was actually offering to bandage my hand and I didn't know what to make of his nicety.

 

"This will burn" Mr. Oh conveys apologetically and kneels in front of me, wetting the swab of cotton in the antiseptic liquid from the first aid kit.

 

"Mr. Byun I won't hurt you. I promise" he reassures in all seriousness when I flinch instinctively and the unexpected sincerity is baffling. I stretch my hand after a bit of hesitation and he wipes the liquid onto my skin gently. Tiny, cuts dot my fingers and Mr. Oh's stubborn scowl deepens.

 

"Did I do this to you?" he probes, jaw clenching palpably.

 

"No, I broke the wine glass in the restaurant where we lunched with Mr. Kim" I murmur uncertainly and Mr. Oh quietly nods, unconvinced and I cannot discern his guilt from the concern.

 

He resumes his ministrations and applies the ointment to the shallow cuts and fastens them in band aids. Strangely, Mr. Oh pauses near the ring adorning my pinky and looks at me in something akin to shock and recognition.

 

"This ring...How?" he whispers vaguely and I am perturbed.

 

"I found it in the playground when I was five. To be fair I didn't steal the ring, I waited for the owner to come claim the band but no one did" I explain nervously since his gaze flickers between the silver circlet and I. For a moment his head lowers as if in prayer and Mr. Oh exhales loudly. He was doing that a lot today.

 

"Don't lose it" he insists tiredly.

 

"Okay" I agree, lost for words. Why did it matter to him whether I lost the ring or not?

 

"You can take Tylenol if the swelling causes you discomfort" Mr. Oh advises, flashing the small container. Spraying the pain relief, he bandages my wrist in the orange gauze and binds it snugly.

 

"No I'm fine Mr. Oh" I decline staring a literal hole in the wall.

 

"Where are the documents?" he eventually interrupts the hush and I am reminded of the forgotten task.

 

"Downstairs" I respond, descending the stairway hastily and he follows suit. Placing the papers for his perusal I fidget restlessly and Mr. Oh signs them after inspecting thoroughly.

 

"Thank you sir. I will deliver them to Rafael straightaway" I state.

 

"That is not necessary Mr. Byun, I can manage. You have the rest of the day off as I won't be in the office" he affirms grabbing the coat from the rack in the foyer.

 

"But sir" I begin to protest and Mr. Oh dismisses the outcry.

 

"Come" he instructs and I pursue him to the maroon Aston Martin idling in the driveway.

 

"Where are you going Mr. Oh?" I question insistently.

 

"We, Mr. Byun are going to your house" he declares, opening the passenger seat door.

 

"I can hail a taxi Mr. Oh" I persist.

 

"Put your address in the GPS Mr. Byun" he directs, maneuvering me inside the car.

 

"Mr. Oh I don't want to trouble you" I protest but he pays no heed and drives ahead.

 

"So Krav Maga huh?" I guess, remembering the technique he had used to physically manhandle me.

 

"Mixed Martial Arts" Mr. Oh corrects in amusement.

 

"Why?" I wonder aloud.

 

"I had quite the rebellious streak and my boredom only aided the cause" he divulges and I laugh heartily imaging the unruly teen.

 

"Did you participate in tournaments?" I ask curious to unravel more.

 

"For an entire year until my mother caught me in the local news for winning the under 18 championship" he indulges my inquisitiveness and admits wistfully.

 

The rest of the ride passes in silence and I awkwardly try to avoid gawking at the man beside me. The whole evening had thrown me off balance and shown me a side of Mr. Oh that I couldn't have pictured the existence of. I had learnt so much about him in a few hours than I had in weeks and felt like I was probably barking up the right tree.

 

"Is this the correct house?" he questions peering outside the window.

 

"Yes Mr. Oh" I nod vigorously and fumble to exit the vehicle.

 

"I'm sorry" he apologizes earnestly and I am astonished by the fact that I had received an apology at all.

 

"Thank you for dressing the wounds Mr. Oh" I return genially.

 

"It was the least I could do" he remarks frankly and I smile despite the insinuation.

 

"Does this mean we've called a truce Mr. Oh?" I tease half heartedly and that elicits his booming laughter.

 

"Not if you keep threatening to quit Baekhyun" he bids in farewell and I gape. Had he just called me Baekhyun? As in Baekhyun and not Mr. Byun? My name Baekhyun? Wow. How did he make it sound so...wicked?

 

In my daze I nearly walk into Minseok hyung who is waiting for my arrival.

 

"Byunnie who was that and what happened to your hand?" he ponders carefully steadying me.

 

"My boss, Oh Sehun" I reveal ignorantly.

 

Shit shit shit! Please don't hear what I said Hyung please, please, please, I pray belatedly.

 

"Your what?!" hyung exclaims and I realize what my stupidity had accomplished. Great, I had gone and put my foot in the mouth again.

 

"That is a very long story hyung" I groan in defeat and he drags me along determinedly.

 

Hyung hounds me for details and I have no option but to reward his tenacity with the whole story. After a relentless interrogation he is breathing fire and declaring war on Mr. Oh in his typical overprotective brother manner.

 

"I can help you Byunnie, I can make arrangements" he remarks gravely.

 

"No Hyung" I refuse adamantly. There was no way I was robbing him of his hard earned money.

 

"Byunnie you don't have to" he argues.

 

"Hyung one year isn't that long and there are perks to being his Secretary" I persuade him and he caves in grudgingly.

 

"Okay. Kyungsoo called. He wants to confirm the final set list for your music thingy" Minseok hyung huffs, sour about being denied the opportunity to play superhero.

 

"My battery died, lend me yours" I note and find myself face to face with a grinning Jongdae.

 

"Hyung why is Jongdae inside your phone?" I demand and he reaches for the mobile frantically. Using my taller legs to advantage I hold it higher and evade his attempts to reclaim the device.

 

"This is childish" he grumbles and plops down.

 

"Kim Minseok are you fucking blushing?" I squeal, excited.

 

"Baekhyun ah shall I acquaint your facial features with the sidewalk?" he terrorizes and I guffaw uncontrollably.

 

"When did this happen? I need an explanation pronto" I prompt eagerly.

 

"This is why I don't tell you anything. You make it a big deal and create such a Hoo hah" he scolds weakly.

 

"Please hyung please. I have been shipping you guys since forever. You are the OTP of my life" I plead and he blushes crimson red.

 

"Fine! We are dating. I like him and his confession was adorable enough to kill me. How could I deny him anything?" he babbles shyly.

 

"Dude you are whipped" I observe, thrilled.

 

"We're going to Japan for his birthday because he wants to visit the Mizuki Shigeru road" Minseok Hyung laughs spontaneously and my heart melts at the sight.

 

"I need to tell Chanyeol and Kyungsoo. They will be happy to know our JongMin ship is finally sailing" I announce and he locks me in a chokehold which results in an impromptu wrestling match.


	11. One Step Ahead

Have you ever wondered how someone who is accused of a crime feels when he is in standing in the court and trying to counter all the claims that people are throwing at him so that his innocence can be proven? When he has to struggle to make them believe that he had nothing to be repentant about?

 

Except in my case, I hadn't actually committed a crime, neither did I have a guilty conscience that needed absolution. But somehow my friends saw it fit to treat me as if I were a delinquent walking around and wreaking havoc on innocent lives.

 

"What have you been doing all these days?" Chanyeol yells from the couch currently occupied by him, Kyungsoo, Jongdae and surprisingly Taeyong who to his credit looks like he was dragged against his will.

 

"Did you flunk a subject?" Jongdae screeches, his already high pitched tone wavering dangerously. As if that hypocritical bastard had any right to say that to me after phenomenally bombing our French finals in High School.

 

"This will be a lot less painful if you're honest Baekhyun" Kyungsoo advises in that sotto voce that begets no room for escape or deflection. Why was it always sink or swim with Kyungsoo? Did this Pororo not understand the concept of moderation?

 

"How did you guys even catch me in the lie?" I whine pitifully. This was not how I had planned to tell them the truth.

 

"I was in the administrative building to hand in some forms, lo and behold Mrs. Choi begins hounding me because you haven't dropped by to visit her in ages. Then I saw how all your lesson plans were left blank and realized you were hoodwinking all of us" Chanyeol reveals leveling an accusatory finger at my forehead.

 

Ah poor Mrs. Choi must have missed me quite a lot if she had resorted to inquiring after me from Chanyeol.

 

"Hoodwinking is a strong word, I was merely waiting for the appropriate moment to drop the bomb" I mumble disapprovingly.

 

"Baekhyun sweetie have you been taking drugs?" my mother pipes in, distress lacing her query.

 

"MOM" I exclaim, appalled that she thought I would choose getting high over singing and dancing.

 

"Is it Weed? LSD? Cocaine? Meth? Ecstasy? Heroin? Vicodin? Valium?" Chanyeol demands fuming in anger and I regret that he's not close enough for me to stomp on his face like I really wanted to. How was I the shady person when apparently he was the human encyclopedia for narcotics?

 

"Did you get a girl pregnant?" Jongdae balks, truly horrified at the prospect and I wished the skies would open up and smite me whole.

 

"I couldn't get a girl pregnant even if I wanted to, you absolute piece of shit" I howl, enraged by the sheer foolishness.

 

"Why not darling? You're a very healthy young man" my mother laughs nonchalantly and I have to control the urge to lob a show at Jongdae's useless head.

 

"Mother did you forget my grand exit from the closet years ago? I walked out wearing a glittery leotard just so you wouldn't harbor any doubts about my sexuality. You threw me a gay version of the Quinceañera and practically invited the entire neighborhood" I explain wondering if it was too late to get myself a new family and friends.

 

"Honey we're Koreans, we celebrate Gwallye" my mother corrects and I nearly faint from the suppressed irritation.

 

"Thanks for the mental images Baekhyun" Jongdae winces obliviously.

 

"This is your fault! Why would you ask me something stupid when you knew I couldn't get it up for a girl even if she knelt and prayed in front of it?" I cry, infuriated.

 

"Hey what's wrong with girls?" Chanyeol has the audacity to complain.

 

"Nothing is wrong with girls Chanyeol, absolutely nothing! Girls are amazing but Baekhyun Junior does not swing that way, he is pro men and likes his sausages long. In case you forgot I'm as gay as a pink donut with rainbow filling and I would gladly lick frosting off Channing Tatum's nips if I ever saw him stark naked" I snap.

 

"Man you need to chill" Jongdae admonishes and I am actually dumbfounded.

 

He was the reason why I was five seconds away from an aneurysm!

 

"FOR FUCKS SAKE WILL YOU ALL SHUT UP AND LET ME TALK?" I finally roar to stop their increasingly ridiculous speculations.

 

"Hyung did you join a gang? Do you hate us now? Did we do something wrong?" Taeyong sniffles, dejected and instantly the dumb giant is by his side.

 

"No Tae I am not in any gang and I seriously don't hate you" I groan, perplexed that the notion of me being in cahoots with the mob had somehow become believable to Taeyong. Suddenly I worried for the child

 

"Tell them the truth Byunnie" Minseok Hyung coaxes, holding a board that says 'Baektervention'. I could make a wild guess as to whose ingenuity led to that particular tag, given how the furry fiend was blatantly avoiding my glare.

 

"I don't attend classes anymore because I work for Oh Sehun, the CEO of Oh Enterprises" I sigh, quietly resigning to my fate.

 

"Does that mean you've dropped out of college?" Kyungsoo probes, eyebrows curving upwards and his owlish gaze, shrewder. Was I in for a beating?

 

"No I didn't. In fact when I ruined Mr. Oh's scarf, which cost a shit load of money for your kind information, I was given two options- being his personal Secretary or facing expulsion from the Academy, and I did what I could to save my ass. The sad part isn't even that I have to work under him for an entire year but it's the fact that the man hates me enough to make Batman and Joker look like they were fucking each other senseless, behind the scenes" I rant breathing heavily.

 

"Sorry mom" I add as an afterthought lest she should protest at my use of foul language.

 

"You should have told us sooner" Jongdae grumbles, sufficiently chastened.

 

"You are the shoot first and ask questions later, type of people" I grumble, flopping down to the floor in exhaustion. The guilt of having to lie and hide the secret had finally disappeared, leaving my conscience clear.

 

"Don't go to work from tomorrow. I really want to see to what lengths he would go to realize his threats" Chanyeol declares, momentarily discarding his optimistic perception in exchange for retribution.

 

"I signed a contract Yeol and I can be sued or expelled. Both of which I am not prepared for" I mumble, enjoying the warmth of the sun rays streaming through the open windows. Frankly, I had thrown in the towel and decided to stop fighting the tide of the events. In the light of the recent events, it became obvious I was destined to grab the short end of the stick where Mr. Oh was concerned and worrying about the inevitable seemed, futile.

 

"It pains me to say this but Chanyeol is right and if worse comes to worst, I will pay the penalty" surprisingly Kyungsoo offers and I am stunned into silence.

 

Encouraging bad behaviour and moreover indulging its consequences were strictly against Kyungsoo's principles. He'd much rather send me to a Bible camp for atonement and such, than oblige my wrongdoings.

 

"We will pay the penalty" Taeyong emphasizes, for good measure and the stubborn set of his shoulders is almost comical.

 

"How much?" Jongdae ponders, pragmatically.

 

"Guys" Minseok Hyung is quick to intervene when I flounder helplessly. I was torn between wanting to cry because the gesture itself was touching and wanting to cry because they would surely have a fit when they learned the truth.

 

"Unless one of you have four million dollars stashed in an off shore account in the Cayman Islands, I say we forget this idea" I chuckle wryly.

 

"You really know how to get yourself into trouble" they shout in unison and I recoil from their frustrated screeching.

 

"I know okay!"

 

"We could have bought two Vulcans with that kind of money Baek" Chanyeol laments loudly.

 

"I'm glad you can still think of buying cars when I am recounting my miserable life story Yeol" I note annoyed and he shrugs as if to say 'you got yourself tangled in this mess'.

 

Indeed.

 

I had shot myself in the foot spectacularly.

 

"But you can't continue missing classes Hyun-ah. Then you won't have the necessary credits to pass this semester" Jongdae argues, in all seriousness.

 

"I've got that covered" I remark, proud of what I had managed to accomplish with Mr. Oh's help.

 

"How?" Minseok hyung asks occupying the empty armchair.

 

"Remedial classes with Mr. Zhang and Jongin?" the statement comes out more a question, than an answer.

 

"You're lying" Chanyeol splutters, tripping in his haste to reach me.

 

"You wish" I chuckle showing my contacts list and he lands on his knees, stumped.

 

Well I suppose to Chanyeol, Mr. Zhang's number was the equivalent of the Holy Grail.

 

"Now that's what I call an upgrade ladies and gentlemen" Jongdae whistles and finally the tense atmosphere in the room dissipates, bringing in the jokes at my expense.

 

"If that's settled, I have an announcement to make" I disrupt their mockery and smirk deviously in Jongdae's direction.

 

"You promised not to tell anyone" Hyung groans, sensing the impending revelation.

 

"That was pre Baektervention Minseokiki. You have lost the privilege of my secrecy by participating in this circus show" I scoff.

 

"He knows?" Jongdae gasps, turning an amusing shade of crimson.

 

"Yes I know. In fact, I've known for quite some time darling" I laugh, ignoring their silent pleas.

 

"It hasn't even been a week Baekhyun" Hyung whines, trying to secure my silence through his puppy eyes.

 

"Hyung, you and Jongdae won't have to make excuses while you go on dates or lie to us when you want to get funky" I observe solemnly.

 

"Who is going on dates?" Taeyong stammers, practically curling into himself like an overgrown hedgehog. Weird. Was he hiding something?

 

"Minseok Hyung and Jongdae" I expose the love birds and Chanyeol grudgingly gives 50,000 won from his wallet to Kyungsoo. He bet that the pair would be together within the end of the month and his prediction had been accurate.

 

"You placed bets on us?" Jongdae shrieks, affronted.

 

"No, I made a wise investment" Kyungsoo brushes off the scandalized objection.

 

"This officially calls for a JongMin party" Chanyeol yells, celebrating the news.

 

After successfully shifting the attention to the new couple, I enjoy the unfolding merrymaking but my brain decides to attack me with visual loops of Mr. Oh tending to my injuries and his palpable concern which hadn't escaped my notice. The strangely gentle, care had left behind a lasting impression and going to the office tomorrow didn't seem so daunting anymore.

 

Maybe we could be civil to each other if we tried.

 

"Good Morning Sir" I greet, barging inside Mr. Oh's cabin and find the rolling chair unoccupied. Please not again I pray inwardly, until the man materialzes from the private room attached to his cubicle. Dear God.

 

"Mr. Byun please be seated" Mr. Oh returns, absently appraising my memo pads and I swallow the litany of curse that begins to leave my mouth.

 

Mr. Oh is wearing a grey button up under his checkered vest and it tapers into fitting, black slacks that contour his surprisingly well rounded behind. He reaches towards the rack to hang his discarded suit coat and the shirt strains against his muscles while the trousers tense with the movement. The clingy fabric tightens around smooth biceps and the slope of Mr. Oh's strong, broad back and my eyes soak in the plush form of his ass.

 

How come I hadn't noticed this before?

 

How come I was noticing this now?

 

"I have meetings scheduled from 10 to 3, the liaison from the Hong Kong branch would like to consult me on pre development stage plans for the Huang and Lin Corporation, the Marketing and Communications team need my approval for the new projects and the Board is harassing you to ensure my attendance for the Annual Gala. Is there anything that I missed?" Mr. Oh recites, his appointments from the notes.

 

"Uh Mr. Jeong called to know when he can reschedule y-your um golf match" I add, flushing furiously at my wayward train of thoughts.

 

"Tell Mr. Jeong that my demands have tripled and the negotiations have officially concluded" he states, languidly inching forward.

 

"Ye-yes sir" I mumble.

 

"These bandages need to be changed Mr. Byun" he interjects and Mr. Oh's nimble fingers wrap my left wrist in their warm, pleasant clasp. I hold rock still whislt he skillfully undoes the orange gauze and examines the wound.

 

In this proximity I only had to tilt my head upwards to sniff along the long column of Mr. Oh's exquisite neck and his subtle, intoxicating scent would fill my senses. The temptation intensifies when my gaze uncovers the tiny mole nestled underneath the sharp curve of his jaw and I struggle to compose myself.

 

Please Baekhyun please. Sexual harassment is not worth the jail time I admonish myself, unconvincingly.

 

"The swelling has reduced" he notes, grimacing at the darkening shade of the bruise.

 

"It doesn't hurt anymore Mr. Oh" I reassure, opposed to the idea of further invoking his remorse.

 

In a manner of speaking I had incurred this injury purely by my sleuthing or the apparent lack thereof and if I had been in his place, believing a robber was in the process of ransacking precious artwork, I would have extended the same violent treatment.

 

"Are you sore Mr. Byun?" he enquires, immersed in scrutinizing and I choke on my spit.

 

"Sore?" I squeak, barely believing my own ears.

 

"Mr. Byun. Your wrist" he emphasizes, expression suspicious and wary.

 

"Oh. So-sorry. N-n-no. I mean yes? I guess?" I stammer, gradually coloring in embarrassment.

 

Wonderful. Absolutely wonderful.

 

Why don't you go ahead and assume filthier subtexts from his remarks show him just how thirsty you actually are? My subconscious mocks.

 

"I suggest you refrain from stressing your hand Mr. Byun or you'll aggravate the sprain" he warns and I decide Mr. Oh's guilt was much better than his contempt.

 

"Yes sir. I'll go bring your coffee Mr. Oh" I nod, eager to compose myself away from his piercing gaze.

 

"My morning requirements for caffeine have already been sated Mr. Byun" he points to the empty mug on the table. Crap.

 

"You shouldn't have troubled yourself Mr. Oh" I apologize hurriedly. Working with one hand had proved quite challenging and I had taken too long to get dressed. Maybe, I had been later than I realized and Mr. Oh was forced to make the coffee himself. He could have ordered someone else to but his tastes were so particular, I doubted anyone else would have sufficed.

 

"Mr. Byun I may have been born with a silver spoon but that doesn't mean I can't use that spoon to stir my coffee once in a while" he smirks, loosening his intricately knotted tie.

 

"I apologize for underestimating your barista skills Mr. Oh, I'll be at my desk if you need anything else Mr. Oh" I concede good naturedly.

 

The day passes uneventfully and by the time I am scarfing down Danish pastries in the break room, I feel energetic and restless. The most I had accomplished today was bringing a bottle of water to Mr. Oh, while he was in a meeting and organize his already organized files. I hadn't been forced to handle the PowerPoint or the presentation per usual and the heavy briefs I carried had magically appeared in the conference hall.

 

Several interns ran back and forth from Mr. Oh's office, each one more unnerved than the other as they finished the errands assigned to them. It was a drastic change from my normal routine but whenever I tried to do something and Mr. Oh demanded that I stay rooted to the spot, I was oddly satisfied.

 

This unusual kindness was unusually nice.

 

Yongsoo, from the Accounting Department who preferred his much flashier alias Leo, catches me wandering and merrily drags me to their side of the break room where they regale everyone with all the hilarious office gossip, I generally distanced myself from.

 

Apparently, three hours ago they had discovered Byung Chul in the women's loo receiving promiscuous services from a certain married employee in the Human Resource Department and the entire office was in an uproar. The complacent bunny that had assumed the role of my tour guide during my first week here is quickly replaced by the President of the Foul Mouths Are Us Association and boy does he rant.

 

"The useless fungal infection carriers, literal turd burgers, 2003 Fergie plagiarists, bed pissing maggots, cactus eating fruitcakes, cum guzzling whale vaginas, bottom feeding scavengers, uneducated goose penises who would easily win the best snakes of the century award, have finally given us the dirt to humiliate them into the sewerage drains they live in and you best believe it is going to be a blood bath Byun" Leo declares, earning the boisterous approval of our colleagues.

 

You could say there was a bit of hostility between the HR Management and the rest of the staff.

 

The number of people in our table increase until half of the company has squeezed themselves haphazardly into our space whilst people take turns to descriptively slaughter the workers in HR. The twelfth tale is gory enough to cause the crowd to lessen and I search for an excuse to leave as well. Mercifully, my phone vibrates and I get saved by the bell. Literally.

 

"Hello" I accept, without checking the caller ID.

 

"Mr. Byun I was hoping to talk to you" my impatient greeting causes the speaker on the other end to chuckle.

 

"Mr. Zhang is that you?" I blurt, perturbed to be receiving his call.

 

"The one and only" he confirms.

 

"How can I help you sir?" I instantly question, forgetting the dull explosion of merriment and howling in the background.

 

"Baekhyun is it possible to meet me in an hour? I would like to start you off with new assignments and discuss some things" he muses.

 

"Of course Mr. Zhang. I'll be there as fast as I can" I respond eagerly.

 

"Fantastic. I'll see you then" he says, disconnecting the line.

 

The clock at the end of the corridor reads 4 pm, mere few minutes from the end of my shift and I knock on Mr. Oh's door wondering if he would dismiss me earlier today.

 

"Sir I've updated the necessary materials and made arrangements for tomorrow. If there is nothing else can I be excused for practice?" I state, waiting for the green signal.

 

"What practice Mr. Byun?" he queries aloud.

 

"Mr. Zhang called and he wants me to head there to learn new routines" I explain, excited.

 

"Sit tight Mr. Byun I will drive you there in a moment" Mr. Oh suggests gesturing towards an empty chair.

 

"No no, Mr. Oh I'll be completely fine on my own" I instantly decline his offer to chauffeur me to the studio.

 

"I have some important matters to attend with Yixing and Jongin myself" he dismisses and I acquiesce quietly.

 

The front hallway is brightly lit unlike my first visit here and I directly make my way to the practice rooms while Mr. Oh trails behind me.

 

"Hey there little devil" Mr. Kim welcomes, a portrait of joy and I step aside to clear his path towards Mr. Oh.

 

"That hurts Baekhyun" Mr. Kim wrinkles his nose in poor resemblance of hurt.

 

"I thought you meant Mr. Oh" I reply staring between the two men. It hadn't struck me to the consider the possibility of it being my nickname, when Satan himself was present.

 

"Mr. Byun he most certainly was not" Mr. Oh tuts disapprovingly and I sidestep sheepishly.

 

"Correct me if I'm wrong but is that sass I detected?" Mr. Kim guffaws.

 

"Yes. The sass of a three year old child" Mr. Oh answers in my stead and I frown grudgingly.

 

"I thought it was pretty decent" I grumble.

 

"I'll pay triple of what Sehun is paying, if you agree to be my Secretary" Mr. Kim extends his invitation seriously.

 

"Mr. Oh doesn't pay me" is the only thing I can spout to refuse the absurd proposal.

 

"Then why do you work for him, gorgeous?" Mr. Kim probes, skeptical.

 

What is with all these nicknames I grouch mentally.

 

"Because I have to pay him?" I mumble, fidgeting and see the cogs turning as he tries to decipher the underlying meaning.

 

"If you are done seducing my secretary you can leave" Mr. Oh sighs, exasperated.

 

"Seducing is beneath Hyung Sehunnie, I lay in wait while the bewitched saunter in" Mr. Kim imparts airily, as if dazzling people was a feat worthy of admiration.

 

"So that's how Mr. Zhang fell for him" I mutter under my breath but it doesn't go unheard by them.

 

"Baekhyun you are the living, breathing, sarcastic prodigy I have dreamt of training and I must have you" Mr. Kim declares, wiping tears of mirth.

 

"Suho. Now" Mr. Oh prompts insistently and something about the name feels familiar. Wasn't he the same person who gave Mr. Jung the pass code to Mr. Oh's house?

 

"I believe my gift has been received without harm" Mr. Kim hums, a Cheshire smile lighting up his alluring features.

 

"Not entirely" I answer drawing his attention to my swollen wrist.

 

"My apologies, I failed to account for the dragon's flailing temperament" Mr. Kim winces.

 

"I'd guess this was a minor scrape considering the circumstances I found the dragon in" I cough and continue speaking in riddles so as to not alert Mr. Oh that he was the center of our conversation.

 

"Interesting. Since you are indebted to me, perhaps we chat about this at a more convenient place?" Mr. Kim suggests and I nod inconspicuously.

 

There were some mysteries I wanted to unveil myself.

 

"Mr. Byun if I hear the word dragon one more time I will have you taking dictations from Miss Kang for an entire week" Mr. Oh scowls and the potential threat to my eardrums puts an end to our chit chat.

 

"It astonishes me how you think everything has to revolve around you Sehunnie" Mr. Kim observes wryly.

 

"Empire has released four editorials in the last three months alone of, Kim Junmyeon’s quick guide to fall fashion, Meet Kim Junmyeon the boy wonder turned nouveau riche, Kim Junmyeon's secret to creating everlasting fame and lest we should forget Kim Junmyeon on conquering his fears, when the only thing you've feared in your pampered existence, is scratching expensive Birkins and Louis Monet's. That extravagance is called the Real Housewives of Beverly Hills syndrome, not fear" Mr. Oh retorts, disdain dripping.

 

"Sehunnie I'm sensing unresolved hostility from you and I honestly feel attacked. Would you care to address these issues in the next therapy session?" Mr. Kim huffs, clutching his heart dramatically.

 

"I'd rather not. I prefer seizing the opportunities to slander you as they come" Mr. Oh smiles, quite angelic.

 

"Young man you need to respect your elders" Mr. Kim chides and their childish banter is extremely amusing.

 

"Er...I'm sorry Mr. Oh but I'll be going ahead" I announce, starting towards the door.

 

"Don't loiter" Mr. Oh taunts for added measure.

 

"I'm just waiting for my dinner date Sehunnie please stop antagonizing me or the next sharpest object I spot will be lodged in your body" Mr. Kim beams instantly focusing his energy to irritate Mr. Oh.

 

"Yixing will be busy in his lessons with Mr. Byun" Mr. Oh replies.

 

"Sehun what are you doing here darling?" a feminine voice interjects.

 

The woman who emerges from the elevator is clad in an elegant dress and her hair is coiffed to perfection. The beauty and grace she exudes eclipses any of the grandeur adorning her. Garnet lips curl into a smile that crinkles around her gentle eyes and the resemblance is almost eerie.

 

"Mother what are you doing here?" Mr. Oh implores, joining her.

 

"Junmyeon and I had some business to discuss honey" her slender hands pat Mr. Oh's cheek lovingly.

 

Oh almighty gods of college students and the saviors from their eternal fuckuppery I beseech you to kindly save me from this mortifying encounter.

 

"You didn't have to exert yourself mother. Junmyeon could have visited the main residence" Mr. Oh fusses.

 

"Nonsense darling, I am fully capable of travelling anywhere I please" Mrs. Oh hushes her son's concern.

 

"He is never nice to me" Mr. Kim comments petulantly and that causes her to laugh in endearment.

 

"Jun was Sehun bullying you again?" Mrs. Oh asks, her gaze knowing.

 

"Not at all mother. I was merely acquainting him with his ego, which seems to have grown rather large since I last met him" Mr. Oh shrugs, claiming innocence as if it was one of his more believable or associative traits.

 

"Vanity is for the weak my darling and Jun has no use for it" Mrs. Oh defends the preening Mr. Kim.

 

"He gets worse every time you indulge him mother" Mr. Oh groans exasperated and the resulting leer from Mr. Kim, increases my gratitude for Minseok Hyung by tenfold. I couldn't survive the constant gloating if hyung was that insufferable.

 

"Auntie this is Byun Baekhyun, our new trainee and he sings like an absolute dream. If you ever need a retake of the 70's melodies I'll have Baekhyun send you tapes" Mr Kim introduces when I draw attention to myself in my haste to disappear.

 

"Baekhyun this is Mrs. Oh Hyesoon, Sehun's mother and my beloved aunt" Mr. Kim continues and I completely freeze.

 

"P-pleased to make your acquaintance Ma'am" I bow and nearly knock my forehead to my trembling knees.

 

"Your uncle told me you were dating a beautiful young man. Is this him honey?" Mrs. Oh enquires with a teasing lilt in her words.

 

"N-no ma'am. I'm just his-" I shudder and blush simultaneously. I couldn't lift my head and look them in the eye or finish the sentence.

 

Could there be greater mortification? Mr. Oh's mother thought Mr. Oh and I were dating when in fact I was that drunk fool who had dared to destroy her exorbitant token of love.

 

"Mr. Byun is a student in our academy but I had him transferred here for additional coaching. I must say his talent is singular" Mr. Oh clarifies, filling in the gaps.

 

"He will participate in the Annual Novice Invitational, you must come see him aunty" Mr. Kim is relentless and I silently plead him to stop. I didn't know what Invitational he was referring to but whatever it was I am certain I couldn't do it in the foreseeable future much less while Mrs. Oh was in attendance.

 

"I would love to. I do adore the pieces Yixing arranges for the trainees, especially Sehun's duets" Mrs. Oh indulges the insane plan.

 

"Have you chosen your partner for this year Sehunnie?" Mr. Kim prods, loud and gleeful.

 

"Not yet" Mr. Oh grits out unwillingly.

 

"Excellent. Baekhyun do you mind being Sehun's partner?" Mr. Kim simpers.

 

In other words, did I mind dying?

 

"Mr. Byun is an amateur and has no prior experience in performing duets" Mr. Oh snaps.

 

"Mr. Oh is right" I assure.

 

"I'm sure you and Yixing can train him until he is better. You do have an entire month to work your magic" he goads undeterred and Mr. Oh scowls darkly.

 

"Darling, give him a fair chance and if he is as good as Jun says he is, you will have nothing to regret. Baekhyun is lovely and he certainly looks like he can manage your standards" Mrs. Oh insists sweetly and I cannot fathom why she assumed I could match her son's unparalleled talent.

 

"Baekhyun I was waiting-" Mr. Zhang exclaims accompanied by Jongin and I nearly weep in relief.

 

"What's happening here?" Jongin wonders, watching the scene before him warily and I curb the urge to scream save me.

 

"We found Sehunnie his partner for the Novice Invitational, you can tell Miyong and Soojin to make themselves scarce" Mr. Kim enthuses and I marvel at the man's blatant disregard for my consent in this suicide mission.

 

"What?" Mr. Zhang utters and apprises my panic stricken demeanor.

 

"Please" I mouth silently.

 

"But Baekhyun joined us recently and we haven't taught him an appropriate routine for the event. Besides we can't be sure that his style of dancing is compatible with Sehun's and it could lead to a disaster if they're not comfortable around each other" Mr. Zhang reasons and I thank my stars for his intervention. An angel in the flesh, indeed.

 

"I agree mother" Mr. Oh comments, calmer than earlier.

 

"Babe you wouldn't know until you try and I for once think the pairing is perfect" Mr. Kim persists past his lover's apprehension.

 

"I trust you to handle this Yixing" Mrs. Oh declares, finally excusing herself and her glowing nephew treads along.

 

"Mr. Zhang I c-can't do this" I plead urgently.

 

"Let's head inside first" he sighs and I follow.

 

"Sehun, Baekhyun we have no choice. We are going to get this done" Jongin states resolutely.

 

"Absolutely not" Mr. Oh rejects straightaway and I am too tired to argue.

 

"Jongin how do you plan to bring Baekhyun up to speed in a matter of month?" Mr. Zhang groans, frustrated.

 

I almost offer my condolences but realize I was pretty much doomed and had no business feeling sorry for others.

 

"It's impossible" I whisper, wallowing in misery.

 

"Sehun for whatever reason, your mother is determined to see this through and Junmyeon hyung will not stop until he has his way. So you will cooperate and help Baekhyunnie, unless you want the whole cavalry hunting you" Jongin points.

 

What in God's name was happening? I had not only met Oh Hyesoon but had somehow been forced to become her erratic son's dance partner and no one seemed to care about the fact that I could not miraculously learn to dance in thirty days.

 

"You are well aware of how complicated my choreographies are and Mr. Byun cannot learn them in such a short amount of time. Important guests and recruiters will be attending from various Entertainment Companies and I cannot jeopardize the integrity of the show" Mr. Oh spits, ready to wage hell.

 

"I know what this means to you Sehun and I promise given enough practice, Baekhyun can ace the performance" Mr. Zhang quells his murderous glower with a cherubic, dimpled beam.

 

"Baekhyun you don't have to be afraid Sehun, Yixing Hyung and I will help you. Trust me, when I say we can have you ready for the Invitational" Jongin winks, crouching low to hold my quivering hand.

 

What were they so confident about? I had the finesse of an enormous bear and the coordination of a drunk bafoon.

 

Not to mention my notorious left feet.

 

"But Jongin all of you can dance blindfolded and I can't even walk without maiming myself. I am a fucking catastrophe and I will ruin everything" I wail helplessly.

 

"Now you're just exaggerating Baekhyunnie. Sure you dance funny but it's nothing that can't be improved. You have Lord Kim Jongin offering his services and you my dude cannot go wrong" he grins mischievously while dragging me upright.

 

"Let's start you off with stretches and something simple for today" Mr. Zhang beckons towards the ballet bars, next to the mirrors.

 

"Stretch your legs forward" Jongin guides placing his left hand, right ankle on the barre and pointing his foot sharply.

 

After of having my body, twisted and pulled unimaginably Jongin allows me to settle down and feel every muscle burning in protest. We had barely begun and I was already exhausted.

 

"Baekhyun please watch and take notes carefully" Mr. Zhang says and Jongin eases into his position behind him. Everything is blurred limbs and tangled bodies for the next five minutes while sensual music fills the room and they twirl in harmony.

 

"That's all. Simple isn't it?" Jongin beams and sweat beads slide across his skin from the intense acrobatic act.

 

"Jongin you're deluding yourselves" I decide and quickly run to the exit but Jongin captures me before I can make my escape.

 

"Please Jongin please" I beg as he lugs me to the center of the floor and Mr. Oh observes my fruitless struggle in quiet contemplation.

 

Why wasn't he yelling and causing a ruckus anymore?

 

"Baekhyun it's seriously not that hard, you are overreacting" Jongin repeats over and over again until he has turned me around and positioned himself.

 

I catch Mr. Oh's eyes in the mirror and hope he would put an end to this madness but he remains unfettered and sullen.

 

There was not a cell in my body that believed I could jump, sway and twirl to the melody like Mr. Zhang and Jongin had done so gracefully. The prospect was beyond my abilities and I certainly couldn't do it with Mr. Oh while managing to stay alive.

 

"Move" Mr. Oh grunts. "Sehun don't" Jongin groans.

 

"Mr. Oh you can't possibly expect-" I whine petulantly

 

"I warned you to be mindful Mr. Byun" he cuts me off.

 

"I was" I pout and he fixes the bandages that have loosened.

 

"You will come to the practice whenever you're called Mr. Byun and you will learn the dance by the end of this month as if it were your sole purpose of existence. And if you imagine quitting will solve the problem or if you so much as put a toe in the wrong position I will have you chained to my desk for the rest of eternity. Are we clear Mr. Byun?" Mr. Oh warns his manner betraying none of the previous reluctance and I gape in horror.

 

Was he serious?

 

"Crystal" I grumble and Mr. Oh places his hands on my waist, maneuvering my body until his firm chest is pressed against my back.

 

"Wonderful" he praises wryly.

 

"Mr. Oh I think Jongin should teach me the routine first" I stutter when the subtle movements of his torso brush my shoulder blades.

 

"I am your partner Mr. Byun not Jongin and I suggest you get used to my hands on your body, because soon that will be the only thing you feel or need" he whispers, leaning closer to the shell of my ear and goosebumps cover my sweaty skin.

 

How was I supposed to concentrate on dancing when this man I had been secretly drooling over for weeks was breathing in my personal space and destroying the remnants of my self control?

 

_**TAEYONG'S POV** _

 

Two years of pining had finally come to this very moment and I was somehow disappointed that my confession had shocked Sunbae instead of garnering practically any other emotion that showed I still had a shot to be something more than his friend.

 

I gather my discarded sweatshirt and straighten my appearance, deciding to leave Sunbae alone to mull over his thoughts. If I gave him some time hopefully, he would see the situation differently and not with all the hate I was beginning to fear.

 

"I wish you would say something" I sigh, needing the reassurance that I hadn't completely destroyed everything between us.

 

"I'm trying" Sunbae whispers, sinking to the empty chair beside the desk I was sprawled on a while ago.

 

"Maybe it is better that you don't because I'm afraid Sunbae will say something that will give me a reason to not return to your side and that would hurt me more than your rejection" I laugh, despite the tears that had already made their escape.

 

"Tae" Sunbae huffs, using his longer strides to cross the distance between us. The familiar arms draw me close and I bury my face against his chest, letting the sobs wrack through.

 

"This is your fault, this is all your fault. You should have let me go when I asked you to, you shouldn't have kissed me when you didn't plan to stay, you shouldn't have made me feel as though I had a chance and I never would have told you that I liked you" I play the blame game.

 

"I'm sorry. I'm so sorry Tae" Sunbae apologizes wiping the stray tears and tightening his embrace.

 

"That's not enough anymore. For years I've watched you be someone else's and not once did I hate you because I was just content watching those other people make you happy. But today I want nothing more than for you to suffer the way I am" I yell, hating those words even as they left my mouth.

 

"Tae please stop crying, I haven't answered yet" Sunbae pleads.

 

"I already know what you are going to say" I hiccup, ignoring his attempt to comfort me.

 

"How could you when I don't even know yet?" he reasons leaving peppering chaste kisses across my face.

 

"Well then why are you kissing me if you don't know?" I huff evading his touches that were clouding my anger.

 

"I can't help it if you're so pretty Tae" Sunbae groans, pulling me back towards him.

 

"You can't possibly expect me to buy that when you literally looked like you would rather be anywhere else in this world" I snap, biting the hand that tries to pat my hair.

 

"Because I was shocked out of my wits Tae and you have never given me any hints that screamed Sunbae I like you" he explains patiently.

 

"I practically followed you everywhere, no matter you wanted me there or not, how could you not understand? Baekhyun Hyung, Minseok Hyung and Jongdae Hyung understood even before I told them anything" I scoff taken aback by how dense Sunbae was.

 

"I've been an extremely shallow asshole haven't I?" he broods regretfully.

 

"I should have waited until the day you graduated and left the Academy. Maybe if I didn't see how perfect you are everyday then I could have moved on and fallen in love with someone else" I sigh, realizing how stupid I was to imagine this would go well.

 

"That sounds an awful lot like you want to give up on me" he grumbles, all traces of humor gone.

 

"Wouldn't you if you were me?" I retort.

 

"That isn't fair Tae. You haven't given me a chance to recognize my own feelings" he complains.

 

"Sunbae you are straight and I am gay what more is there to be understood?" I laugh cynically.

 

"The whole time you've been talking and crying I wanted nothing more than to kiss you Tae. I doubt that's the normal line of thought for someone claiming to be straight" he chuckles, squishing my cheeks between his warm palms.

 

"Stop lying" I mumble, embarrassed by the honest admission.

 

"If you agree to go on a date with me I can show you how wrong you are" Sunbae suddenly interjects.

 

"Sunbae that's really not funny" I splutter shocked that he would joke about this.

 

"Taeyong I'm serious, I want to take you out. I suppose that sounds condescending when I haven't given you a proper answer but I would be lying if I said I have been seeing you as my hoobae for the past few weeks. You threw me for a loop since you ran away from the studio and I can't stop thinking about what would have happened if I had stopped you" Sunbae continues earnestly.

 

"You're crazy" I whisper unable to hide the disbelief from my voice.

 

"Will you?" he questions, adamant.

 

"No" I answer and Sunbae does a poor job of disguising his disappointment.

 

"Why?" he sulks, head hanging low.

 

"I deserve more than one date Sunbae. There is so much you don't know about me or the things I have done to remain close to you. Chasing after the Park Chanyeol for two years has been an expensive affair, for both my heart and my wallet. I have bought tickets twenty minutes before your concert began when I swore to myself I wouldn't and that it would only hurt me. But those were your achievements and I couldn't forgive myself if I missed them" I chuckle at his stunned expression but Sunbae surprises me when he captures my lips in a searing kiss.

 

"Remember how you're always clinging onto Baekhyun because he brings you food?" Sunbae grumbles.

 

"Yes" I nod wondering where this was heading.

 

"I leave those chicken wings, strawberry macaroons and yogurt smoothies outside the practice hall" he smirks.

 

"I assumed they were from Baekhyun Hyung" I pout, annoyed that I hadn't caught him sneaking around.

 

"Trust me, the only person Baekhyun buys food for, is himself" he gloats and I am mortified to have misunderstood.

 

"Why did you keep it a secret?"

 

"Then I couldn't have hid behind the pillar and enjoyed the sight of you eating" Sunbae grins, sheepish.

 

"Seems like there are some things I don't know about Sunbae either" I admit grudgingly. "

 

Which is why we should have dinner, together, today and I can eventually tell you how many times I have stalked you inside and outside the college" Sunbae teases.

 

"Who are you?" I sputter, flabbergasted by these little revelations.

 

"Jihwaja at 7pm. I'll pick you up" Sunbae states.

 

"Too stuffy. Can we go to Rocko's Diner? I've always wanted to go there with you" I suggest, wanting to spend the evening in a quiet place.

 

"Burger, fries and chocolate milkshake on our first date? Hell yes" Sunbae cheers, pulling me along towards the parking lot.

 

After spending hours torn over what to wear and nearly calling to cancel, Sunbae puts me out of my misery by arriving earlier than the decided time. The diner is barely crowded and the waitress gives us our private booth beside the wall covered in authentic retro memorabilia.

 

The hours pass quickly while Sunbae tells me stories of how he had followed me around since the day he saved me from the bullies. I had always been curious as to why they had stopped causing trouble for me all together and now I knew who was responsible for that.

We almost get thrown out of the diner when I narrate the incident where I was in a fender bender because I tailed Sunbae and the table shakes dangerously with his raucous laughter. The memory doesn't seem so embarrassing when it becomes the reason for his amusement.

 

"Let's eat ice cream Tae" Sunbae prompts when we're walking down the empty street towards the parking lot.

 

"Wouldn't dream of saying no to that" I agree, excited that the evening hadn't ended yet. Sunbae tells me to wait by the swings in the public park and returns carrying two cones of ice cream. My self consciousness disappears as I watch him devour the impromptu desert and I follow suit.

 

"Such a kid" he sighs rubbing the sticky spot on my nose.

 

"Excuse me mister you are the one with a ridiculous mustache not me" I huff, satisfied that I made as much mess as him.

 

"Food is an art Tae you must appreciate it fully" Sunbae disregards the snub.

 

"I want to taste yours" I respond, sticking my tongue out.

 

"Close your eyes then" Sunbae urges and I regard him suspiciously.

 

"I'm leaving you alone if you do anything weird" I warn.

 

"I swear I won't" he chuckles uncontrollably and I indulge his demand.

 

"Cheater" I whisper while Sunbae's lips caress mine slowly.

 

It was softer than the kiss we had shared in the classroom but more meaningful now that I knew where we were headed. The taste of chocolate and something distinctly Sunbae invades my mouth. Our tongues explore eagerly and I abandon the ice cream in exchange for sitting on Sunbae's lap.

 

"Is this going to be a thing now?" I stutter while he nibbles the skin beneath my earlobe.

 

"What do you mean Tae? I was just giving you a taste" Sunbae smirks tickling my sides relentlessly and I break into giggles.

**Author's Note:**

> This work has been posted in Asianfanfics as well as Wattpad under the same usernames so I hope you don't mistake it as a plagiarized work.
> 
> To my best friend exo.fans.kpop who is making this happen with me THANK YOU <3


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